Runaway
by friendoftheearth
Summary: Aaron runs from his demons...
1. Chapter 1

Runaway

Part 1

It was 6am and Paddy was lying awake contentedly watching Rhona feed Leo. Suddenly the spell was shattered by the unexpected sound of the phone ringing. It had made him jump and his sense of calm turn to concern; he wasn't on call so who could be ringing him at this time of the morning. He reached for the phone, anxious now to find out. He didn't recognise the male voice on the other end of the line, but his message had him leap from his bed and give a hurried explanation to Rhona as he dressed. Five minutes later he was in his car and heading to Hotton, to the police station.

The phone call had come from there, from an officer who'd been friendly with Donna, Marlon's ex; he knew of the family, knew a certain member of the Dingle clan had recently been in court and felt compelled to let his family know that he'd spent the night in a police cell. Aaron would be released soon, had been asked if he wanted to make a call, if he wanted to ask someone to come pick him up, but had refused. Being very aware of Aaron's recent history the officer hadn't been happy to just let him go, was concerned about him and so had phoned his home address.

He was so relieved he had, now he could make sure the lad got home safe. He'd thought he was home, tucked up in his bed, he should have checked on him before going to bed himself but Aaron had snapped at him earlier in the evening for fussing, told him to back off and he'd decided to give him some space, he wouldn't make that mistake again.

He'd been told that Aaron had been arrested for being drunk and disorderly! He was struggling to get his head around that. He'd never seen the lad drunk, but he supposed he could understand why he'd got in such a state. He was trying to numb the pain, escape the guilt he was feeling, doing it his way, alone! He wasn't letting any of them in, not letting any of them help, determinedly pushing everyone who cared about him, who loved him away. He was so scared for him, they all were, they didn't know how to reach him, how to stop him self-destruct, but they were going to have to find a way, they weren't prepared to lose him, they loved him too much.

/

**The bed... no you couldn't call it a bed it was more like a bench... was unbelievably hard not to mention cold. He'd woken up thinking he was lying on concrete. It wouldn't be the first time he'd slept rough, surrounded by nothing but fresh air and litter. But he'd opened his eyes to find four walls around him, had found himself in a room that was strangely familiar... that was because it wasn't the first night he'd spent in a police cell... and it probably wouldn't be the last!**

**He could remember being brought here, and he had a tangible reminder of his undignified arrest... his eyes were still stinging from the spray used to subdue him. He'd stopped fighting then and instead started calling the police all the names he thought guaranteed to get right up their noses. They hadn't taken the bait though, they'd just let him rant, had ignored all his insults, and all the time telling him to calm down which had just served to make him more angry. **

**He could remember banging on the cell door at one point, yelling still more abuse, his throat left dry by his actions, his already bruised and bloody knuckles taking more punishment. They were hurting badly right now, were smarting and stiffening up, he'd punched a wall, vented some anger on it because it just happened to be there, because the man he was angry with wasn't, and never would be, not now. And whose fault was that? Who was the cause of this endless nightmare? Whose actions had broken so many hearts and shattered so many lives? His! Yet he was still walking about a free man... well he would be when 6:30am came. The cell door would open and he would walk free again.**

**They'd got it wrong; the twelve nameless faces had got it so very wrong. They'd had the power to lock him up for at least ten years but they didn't. What was wrong with them? He'd killed someone, took their life, he'd committed a crime, he should have been punished for what he'd done, made to pay... but no, he'd been patted on the back and sent home.**

**They obviously hadn't been listening to Jerry's testimony, he'd exposed him as a bully, a thug, a nutter, his a convincing take on his son's lover...and it had all been true. He had been a bully, a thug, he'd lost his head countless times, he'd done some awful things in his time. He'd tried to change, had wanted desperately to change and for a little while he had. First Paddy and then Jackson had helped get his life in order and him on track, but not even their love and determination could stop him from messing up, stop him from doing stupid things. His biggest mistake not understanding or acknowledging his feelings for Jackson, not until it was too late, not until the damage done was irreparable. **

**Everyone kept on forgiving him, gave him chance after chance, and they'd all been ecstatic at the verdict, everyone except Jerry of course. They'd either hugged or kissed him, smiles and relief lighting up their faces. But the verdict hadn't made him happy, he hadn't felt any relief. He'd been shocked by it at first, he kept thinking he was dreaming or that he'd heard wrong. Now he'd accepted it as reality and he was angered by it, and anger had once been his closest and only friend.**

**An officer had earlier brought him a cup of tea and he was sipping on it now, he'd also encouraged him to phone home but he hadn't wanted to do that, what Paddy didn't know wouldn't hurt him. No he'd catch the bus home, try and slip in unnoticed, he was actually quite good at doing that. **

**He couldn't face Paddy's or Rhona's or anyone's concern for that matter, he didn't deserve it. He couldn't face a barrage of questions either, that was guaranteed to set him off, no he just wanted to be left alone.**

**He could hear footsteps now, they stopped outside his cell, seconds later the door was opening and he was being told he needed to collect and sign for his stuff before leaving. He hadn't had much on him, just his house keys, money and mobile. It was all there and he tucked it all back into his hoody pockets as he headed out into the morning sunshine.**

**Seeing Paddy was there waiting for him should really have been of some reassurance, of some comfort, but it had only irritated him, so had his softly-softly approach. He'd rather he give him a bollocking. He'd quickly turned the exchange into a one sided argument, angrily rounding on the older man, finally storming off but not before lashing out with his foot and kicking Paddy's drivers side door in... well he'd asked for it!**

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

Runaway

Part 2

Paddy could be such an old woman at times, his fussing and 'little chats' did his head in. He'd said he was worried about him well when wasn't he? He was forever giving him cause to be concerned about him. Well he was going to have to learn to stop fretting over him, realise it was a waste of time...finally realise that he was a waste of time... a complete waste of time!

He'd made for the bus stop, he'd go to work but he wouldn't go home... to the Smithy, he knew he was going to have stop thinking about it as home; he was going to have to move out. Paddy had another 'son' now, one he really did need to worry over, one he needed to spend more time with. He knew Rhona resented the time Paddy spent with him, the time he spent running after him. He couldn't blame her, he was a disruptive presence in her home, he was making them both unhappy, causing arguments between them, he didn't want that.

By the time he'd reached the bus stop he was regretting the damage he'd done to Paddy's car, he couldn't quite believe he'd taken his anger out on it like that...then again he could, that was him to a T! Get angry, lose control, hit out. He was reverting back to type, the old Aaron Livesy. The one no one liked including himself. Well people could hate him all they wanted, he didn't care, he didn't care about anything anymore.

He'd been lost in thought, aware of a car stopping in front of him but not of whose car it was, it was only when the driver got out did he take notice, it was Paddy.

"**Get in the fuckin' car, NOW!"**

Paddy rarely swore and never at him, he rarely raised his voice to him either but he'd just done both and it had thrown him and he found himself obeying the order. Once back in the car Paddy had put his foot down on the accelerator and sped away, the miles passing quickly and in silence. When they were just short of Emmerdale Paddy had slowed down and pulled into a lay-by, switching off the car engine to then eye him determinedly.

"**I want you to have some counselling, and I'm not taking no for an answer. I love you and I'm not letting you destroy yourself."**

He'd bit back on his reply, swallowed his protests, the 'I love you' bit had got to him, it always did. Why didn't those three words trip so easily off his own tongue?

"**Aaron?"**

"Alright." He'd let Paddy believe he'd agreed to counselling, he had no intention of going though, he hated the idea of talking to a stranger more than he hated talking to someone he knew, someone he trusted. What good would it do anyway, he was beyond help.

"**Good, I'll arrange it today, get you seen asap..."**

He let Paddy prattle on, the older man taking his silence for agreement. He'd finally got around to the damage he'd done to his car, letting him know he expected him to fix it. He'd nodded his head, of course he'd fix it, it would have to be in his own time though, Cain didn't do freebees.

Paddy seemingly satisfied with what had passed between them had then driven them home, as they'd got out the car he'd told him to go get a shower, that he stank like a brewery... and to make sure he ate something before he went to work. He was at it again, fussing over him, Pearl would have likened him to a mother hen, the same couldn't be said about Rhona, not this morning anyway. She was standing in the doorway, giving him a reproachful look. As he'd stepped past her into the hallway she'd opened her mouth and let her feelings on his latest blow out be known. He'd ignored her, carried on up the stairs, having to admit to himself that everything she'd said was true. By the time he'd reached his bedroom door he could hear Paddy defending him, he knew that would result in an argument between the two of them, it always did, he was the only thing they argued over these days. He'd taken the much needed shower, the jets of water temporarily drowning out the sound of their voices. Twenty minutes later they were still arguing, it sounded a lot more heated now though. He dressed quickly, wanting to get away from there, from the ugliness that was again all his doing. As he'd made his way downstairs he realised Rhona knew what he'd done to the car. She was going on about him losing control, that it could just as easily have been Paddy's head that he'd kicked in, that he'd beaten him up before, who was to say he wouldn't do it again or turn on her or Leo?

That had brought him up short. He wouldn't hurt Rhona, he wouldn't hurt Leo he was just a baby...but then he was capable of anything when he lost his head!

Paddy had reacted badly to that idea, shooting his girlfriends concerns down in flames; they were really going at it now, hammer and tongues, saying things he knew they would both later regret. Well it would definitely be the last row they had because of him; he'd make sure of that. He couldn't stomach anymore, it was making him feel sick, just like the recent rows he'd had with Hazel and his mum had done, so he let himself out of the house unheard.

As he'd made his way down the hill to work he told himself there was only one way to end the misery he was causing everyone and that was to put as many miles as he could between him and them.

He was going to have to leave Emmerdale and for good.

He had some money saved, not much, hardly anything in fact but he knew where he could get his hands on some, desperate times called for desperate measures... it wouldn't be the first time he'd stolen what he needed.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Runaway

Part 3

He stared at the wooden cross, at the name inscribed on the metal plaque adorning it, emotions surging up inside as he did so. He missed Jackson so very much, more than he thought was possible. Coming here, speaking his thoughts out loud was a comfort of sorts; it was what they called cold comfort he supposed, because in the end it didn't really help, nothing did. Still he'd miss coming here; he'd miss this remote means of contact, all he would have of Jackson would be memories after today.

"I'm not going to be able to come for a while..." Not even he could lie to a dead man, "I won't be coming again, but that doesn't mean that I've stopped loving you or that I've forgotten you because I haven't, I won't, I never will. I just can't be here anymore. It's too hard... I can't do it without..." He had to stop to wipe away a tear and decided to change the direction of the one sided conversation, "You don't have to worry about your mum, she'll be fine. I promised you I'd look after her and I did, I did my best anyway, she threw a bit of a wobble before the trial but she's alright now... as alright as she could be after losing you. She thinks we did the right thing but I... " No, he wasn't going there either, he'd only get angry, angry with himself and angry at Jackson and he didn't want his last visit to his grave to hold any negative memories. "Anyway your mum's got Bob now, he's been a good friend to her, he's been so supportive, and Paddy will keep an eye on her too... so like I said you don't need to worry about her... or me. I know what I'm doing."

He got to his feet, he didn't want to draw the goodbye out, he didn't want to prolong the agony. He knew the longer he was here the harder it would be to walk away. He fingered Jackson's name, lovingly caressing it but that just wasn't enough for him so he leant down and gently pressed his lips against it, whispering 'I love you' as he withdrew from the goodbye kiss.

The cross wouldn't be here for much longer, it was just a marker until the headstone was set in place, he wouldn't be around to see that... he could imagine it though, he knew what was to be carved into it, that his name was to be there too. He hadn't liked the idea at first, not after what he'd done and he'd told Hazel not to put it there but she wouldn't listen. But now he was happy... well not happy... pleased to be able to leave something of himself behind with his boyfriend, with the man he'd loved... still loved so deeply, he didn't want to desert him completely.

He told himself not to look back and he didn't, he just forced his reluctant feet forward and out through the churchyard gates. That was the hardest part done; now he just had to get through the rest of the day.

/

Everything was so far going to plan, for once going his way. Cain would be leaving work earlier than usual, was going with Debbie and Sarah to the hospital, the little girl was ill, or so they now believed, she needed blood tests and all manner of investigations. While they were gone he would be in charge of the garage, he had the keys, and one of those keys opened the petty cash box. Petty cash! It actually held sizable amounts of cash, and he'd be helping himself to it. That was one way of turning Cain against him, making him wash his hands of him, making him want to forget all about him. Debbie couldn't afford to lose the money but he knew Cain would replace it one way or another so he wasn't going to feel guilty about taking it. He wouldn't feel guilty about helping himself to the Woolpack's takings either, his mum owed him for all the years she hadn't been there... and anyway it would drive home the message that he really was no good, that it was time for her to give up on him. Getting his hands on that money could prove a little more tricky, but he knew he could do it, he hadn't lost any of his nerve or cunning, and like Cain they wouldn't notice it missing until he was long gone.

He still had to get some essentials from home... from Paddy's. The older man had stopped by the garage earlier, wanting to check on him, knowing he had to have heard him and Rhona arguing. He'd been relieved to see him, wanting to one last time; still he'd lied barefaced to him, told him he was fine, that everything was ok, that he'd be working late so not to hold tea for him. That way he wouldn't get wind of the fact he'd left, not until he was miles away. He'd get what stuff he needed later when Paddy was out on his calls and Rhona at the clinic with Leo. It was just a regular check up today, to make sure he was gaining weight... he would have liked to see him grow up but that wasn't going to happen now.

Three o'clock had soon come and he'd watched Debbie carry her daughter to the car, she was so pale, a sickly worrying colour, he knew there was something very wrong with her. He told himself it was something she'd recover from, and told Cain he hoped everything went alright but he could tell by his uncle's face that he was expecting some worrying news. He couldn't dwell on that though, he had to put his family and friends to the back of his mind, he had to try and forget them.

It was eight o'clock now and he was well on his way to wherever it was he was going. He'd been thumbing it and was now keeping a long distance lorry driver company, not that he was any kind of company right now, his mind kept straying to what... to who he was leaving behind... they were probably starting to wonder where he was by now...

In the end his plans hadn't gone quite the way he had in mind. He'd opened the petty cash box but all he'd taken from it was what he was entitled to... his wages. There had been a time when he could easily have stolen from his own family but not now, when the time had come he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He hadn't been able to steal from Cain, he hadn't been able to steal from his mum either, but he had been able to turn his back on them, on Paddy, on Hazel... because he truly believed it was the right thing to do.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 4

Hunger burned in his belly, thirst in his throat. If that wasn't bad enough, he was tired and cold. In the two months since he'd left Emmerdale, his fortunes had been mixed, but this had to be his lowest point, was his lowest point. His money had run out two days ago, and what little he'd eaten since, he had stolen. He wasn't proud of what he'd done, of resorting to such measures again.

He was half wishing that he'd been caught in the act now, that the shop keeper had seen him stuffing his jacket pockets with munch, he might have spent a night in a police cell if he had. Ok, so they weren't the most comfortable of places, but at least they were reasonably warm and dry, he'd have been given a meal and a hot drink too. But then again, a handful of chocolate bars and a few packets of crisps probably weren't worth the paperwork involved; he'd have just been given a caution and sent on his way.

On his way! That made it sound like he was heading someplace in particular. Truth was, he didn't have a clue where he was, let alone where he was going. He was wearily traipsing down some country road he'd happened upon, he just kept on putting one foot in front of another because he had to, he had to keep moving.

Night wasn't all that far off now, and knowing the temperature would fall drastically when darkness did, he was keeping his eyes peeled for something that would provide him with some shelter, a barn, any kind of farm outhouse would do. He didn't want to sleep out in the open again tonight, but it was looking more and more like he would have to.

A string of cars had just passed him by, a few weeks back he'd have stuck out his thumb, hitched a lift. But there was no point doing that any more, not the way he looked. He didn't need a mirror to tell him he more than resembled a tramp... well he hadn't washed or changed his clothes in over a week, he had to be stinking to high heaven. His designer stubble had grown into a straggly beard, he didn't like it, it itched way too much, and as for his hair, that was a lot longer than he liked it too. No one was going to stop and pick him up, no one in their right mind anyway.

He longed for a shower... to soak for hours in a hot bath... and a fresh change of clothes; he wanted to feel clean again, some way near human again. He wanted to sleep in a bed, curl up under a duvet, rest his head on a soft pillow... he wanted to fill his belly... pig out on bangers and mash...Sunday dinner... beans on toast even, anything hot and filling would go down nicely right about now!

Reality stung; there was no chance of any of that happening, not unless... there was one way out of the pitiful mess he found himself in. A phone call or a text was all it would take. Paddy would drop everything and come get him... he longed to see the older man, hear his voice, his mum's, too, for that matter. He missed them both badly but, he knew he couldn't make that call, he couldn't go back, he could never go back.

Why had he let himself think of them? Things were bad enough right now without him getting homesick too. Every now and again, that emotion would sneak up on him and overwhelm him. He would struggle with it, have to battle against it, the call home was just so strong, he had to tell himself over and over that he was stronger.

He had to think of something else, get his mind onto something else, but what though? It was hard to think of anything other than the ache in his heart and just how easy it would be to put that right.

Feeling a telltale drop of moisture on his face, he groaned aloud, it was starting to rain... that would make his misery just about complete!

As he rounded a bend in the road, the much-needed distraction materialised, his gaze immediately falling on the vehicle that was parked just up ahead. The car's bonnet was up, its hazard lights flashing, it looked to have broken down. Did he walk on past or did he offer his help?

As he drew closer, he could see that a man was leaning over the engine, tinkering with it, hopefully he knew what he was doing, because he really didn't want to get involved, not unless he had to. The other man had been so engrossed in what he was doing that he hadn't noticed him approaching, not until he was just a few feet away. Realising he was no longer alone, he straightened up, his attention settling on him.

Aaron wasn't prepared for what he felt on seeing the stranger up close... the fact was he liked what he saw, really liked what he saw... the grey eyes, the warm smile, the handsome face framed by shoulder length wavy blond hair. Inside, he felt something stir, something he hadn't felt in a long time, something he shouldn't be feeling now... attracted to another man!

"**I don't suppose you know anything about cars, do you?"**

The voice was soft and had a friendly ring to it; he found he liked that about him too. But it was all so wrong, wasn't it? Jackson was barely cold in his grave!

The gray eyes were searching his now, waiting on his answer. He wanted to say no, lie and say that he knew nothing at all about cars and then carry on walking, but his mouth betrayed him, "A little." Dropping his rucksack on the side of the road, he set about finding the problem. Five minutes later he had, ten minutes after that he'd put it right.

His expertise had earned him a thank you and an offer of a lift, but as desperate as he was, he turned it down; he couldn't believe just how strongly he was drawn to the stranger, so strongly it scared him.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 5

He was frantically pulling his clothes from the tumble dryer and stuffing them into his rucksack, determinedly blinking away tears as emotions warred inside of him. One question was echoing over and over in his head: 'How could he? How could he have slept with a man who was little more than a stranger?'

Last night, it had seemed so right, he'd wanted to, he'd wanted Micah badly and Micah had wanted him. Within hours of meeting, they were falling into his bed! At the time, he'd believed it to be so much more than just sex, that it was more than them fulfilling a need, he'd felt a connection, something good, something meaningful, but now... now, in the cold light of day, he knew that that couldn't be, that it wasn't possible, that he'd messed up yet again.

When he'd woken up, warm, and that warmth coming from the body heat of another man lying next to him, he'd lazily basked in contentment... but only briefly. The doubts, the fears, they had quickly overwhelmed him, his head telling him that it should never have happened.

He should never have accepted that lift! That was the start of it all. Alarm bells had been going off in his head even then, why hadn't he listened to them? He had at first and had politely refused, had said 'thanks, but no thanks', and had started to walk away, pretending the rain wasn't falling, that he wasn't getting soaked to the skin. He hadn't got very far. Micah wouldn't take no for an answer, he had been insistent, not to mention persuasive, so damn persuasive that he'd accepted more than a lift from him.

Wiping a stray tear from his cheek, he looked around the small kitchen, he didn't want to leave something of his behind, he couldn't afford to, he didn't have much as it was. Satisfied he hadn't, he made for the front door.

He had hoped to sneak out of the house unnoticed, like he had out of Micah's bed; he'd had to slowly and carefully extricate himself from his arms, they had been wrapped so very tightly around him. Shivering in the cold of the unheated bedroom, he'd pulled on the clothes he'd so hurriedly discarded the previous night, Micah's clothes, the ones he'd lent him while his were spinning around in the washing machine.

Micah would regret last night just as much as he did, he was certain of that, and so he had to get out of there before he woke up. He desperately wanted to avoid any awkwardness, he wasn't sure he could even look the other man in the eye, not after what they'd shared between the sheets.

He was almost at the door when he heard movement upstairs, the telltale creaking of floorboards breaking the silence. His heart immediately began to thunder in his chest, his mouth growing unbelievably dry, causing a painful lump to form in his throat.

At the flick of a switch, the landing was illuminated and he heard his name being called. He clamped his mouth shut, scared he would be tempted to respond.

In the half-light, his fingers began a panicked search for the metal latch. Like the door, it was old and heavy and groaned in protest as he raised it, giving his whereabouts away as it did so.

From the top of the stairs came Micah's voice, "Aaron? Wait, don't go."

The plea sounded genuine enough, like him leaving was the last thing Micah wanted. That thought stirred his already turbulent emotions even more, and so he told himself he was imagining the depth of feeling there and, anyway, how could he stay?

He wanted out of there and now, and there was one way to ensure he got clean away. Without giving it a second thought, he snatched up the car keys that Micah had left on the hall table the previous evening, and after closing the door behind him, made a dash for the car parked on the roadside.

Tossing his rucksack into the back of the vehicle, he dropped down into the driver's seat, key in the ignition he willed the car to start first time, holding his breath until the engine roared into life. He was just about to drive away when the front door opened; he turned to look at the jeans clad figure standing there. Disbelief was written all over the other man's face, the grey eyes held his; he found he couldn't look away. But whatever spell he was under was broken when Micah started to shake his head, his mouth forming the words, "Aaron, no!"

With his gaze now on the road ahead, he pressed his foot on the accelerator, the wheels of the car screeching loudly in his haste to get away.

His eyes were suddenly drawn to the rear mirror, but not to check on what traffic there might be, but to have one last look at Micah, he wanted to see him one more time. That didn't make sense, did it? But then again, none of what had happened between them did.

He had to stop thinking about last night, he had to put it behind him, mentally file it under 'Mistake' and then forget all about it.

Checking the fuel gauge, he realised there wasn't all that much petrol in the tank; he'd probably get twenty miles out of it, maybe a little more. He'd run it til it was dry... if he wasn't stopped in the meantime! Well, he hadn't borrowed the car, had he? He hadn't asked the owner's permission before taking it, he'd stolen it! 'You idiot!' he silently blasted himself. He hadn't seen it that way at the time, it had just been a means to put some distance between him and Micah... but he wouldn't see it that way, would he? He'd think that the easy lay he'd picked up at the side of the road had taken him for all he could, and then made off with his car. He'd be on the phone to the police by now.

Yesterday, he was half wishing himself in police custody, but the idea held no appeal today; today, he just wanted to be left alone.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 6

Did he ditch the car, leave it where it could easily be found? Or should he drive it as he had first planned, until it ran out of fuel? There was one other option... he could take it back, return it to its rightful owner. No! No, he couldn't go back to Micah's, just like he couldn't go home... back to Emmerdale.

It was warm in the car, not to mention dry, and with it he could cover a lot more miles than he ever would on foot... he'd chance it, go as far as he could with it.

He had been driving about fifteen minutes or so, the small town where Micah lived, well and truly behind him now. He was just beginning to relax, had told himself that he'd be ok if he kept to the back roads. But typically, he'd got that wrong, like everything else.

His heart rate had quickened a little on seeing a police car up ahead, it was parked on the side of the road along with another vehicle. The driver had been stopped for some reason... it was Saturday morning, or was it Sunday? He'd more or less lost track of what day it was, now that his life wasn't ruled by work and other such restraints. But he was certain it was one or the other, and knew that on those two days, the police made a point of doing early morning spot checks, hoping to catch those still hung-over from partying the night before, those whose blood alcohol level was still above the legal limit.

Slowing down, he flicked on his indicator, overtaking the stationary vehicles at a sensible speed, hoping not to draw any attention to himself. But one of the two officers, the female, had her eyes on the car, and had clocked his face, had stared long and hard at him in fact. 'Maybe she just liked what she saw', he told himself wryly. Well, he did tend to get a lot of female attention, not the sort of attention he wanted of course. He was certainly looking a lot more presentable today, since last night he'd showered and trimmed both his hair and his beard. On seeing the clean, tidied up version, Micah had nodded appreciatively, telling him he scrubbed up well. It hadn't clicked that Micah was interested in him, for a start he hadn't had him down as gay. You were supposed to know though, weren't you, some inner sense enlightening you to the fact. Maybe he'd chosen not to see it... but he hadn't been blind to it for long, the mutual attraction had quickly become obvious...

What was he doing? Hadn't he promised himself not to think about Micah? Hadn't he told himself to forget all about him? His mind now firmly back on the present, he checked his rear-view mirror, and on realising the policewoman's attention was still on him, he increased his speed.

Paddy was always telling him he didn't use his rear view-mirror enough, well it was a case of overuse this morning, he kept looking in it, expecting at any minute to see the police car he'd passed five minutes ago. It was almost a relief when he did.

It had kept its distance for a few miles and then it had suddenly got right up behind him, signalling then for him to stop.

He couldn't believe his luck, well he could!

He watched as Mr. and Mrs. Plod got out of their vehicle, the WPC talking into her radio as the male officer approached him, to then ask through his now open window...

"Is this your car, Sir?"

"No, it's a friend's." Not quite true, last night didn't make him and Micah friends, and anyway you didn't steal from a friend.

"Does the registered owner know you have it in your possession?"

"Yeah." Well, that bit was true enough.

"Are you sure about that, son?"

The officer's response told him all he needed to know, Micah had reported the car as stolen. He had every right to... so why did he feel hurt by his actions? That was something else that didn't make any sense to him.

He dropped his gaze, and as he did so, the officer pulled his door open, gesturing to the patrol car as he said, "C'mon."

"Where to?" Like he didn't know, he was just playing for time now, wondering if he should make a run for it or not.

"Where'd you think?"

He decided to go quietly, to go with the flow, and just ten minutes later found himself face to face with the local Police Station's duty sergeant. The older man was asking the usual obligatory questions. He'd given him his name without hesitation, but when he asked him his address, he just shrugged, well he didn't have one, not anymore, he was... what was it they called it... of no fixed abode!

"Well?"

The older man's want of a verbal response had him say "Buckingham Palace." The officer hadn't batted an eyelid at his lip, had obviously heard it all before, and calmly went on to ask him if he had a driver's licence.

He had that tucked in one of the many pockets of his rucksack, he knew exactly where it was but he was suddenly determined not to cooperate. "Not on me."

"Passport?"

"I don't have one." Now that was an outright lie, his passport was in with his licence.

"So, you don't have any ID?"

"That's not a crime, is it?" There'd been no response to that bit of attitude, the phone had started to ring and the sergeant had turned his attention to that.

The next thing he knew he was being told to wait in the room opposite, that someone would be with him shortly.

Twenty minutes he'd sat alone in the interview room, growing ever more suspicious of what was going on. He'd been in police custody before, knew the drill and very little of what he'd experienced so far was normal procedure. When the door did finally open, the duty sergeant had stepped just inside the room and told him he could go.

"What?" He hadn't been expecting that. He was again told that he could go, only with an added incentive: "Go before I change my mind!"

He hadn't needed telling again, although he'd have liked to know why he was being released, why he hadn't been charged with anything.

As he stepped through the main door, he got his first inkling as to why. Micah! His heart lurched on seeing him, but he told himself it didn't mean anything.

Micah hadn't spotted him; he was too busy talking to the WPC who'd brought him here for questioning. He knew he should slip away before he did, but found himself rooted to the spot. He could just about hear what the pair were saying, they were talking about someone, at first he'd thought it was about him, but on realising it wasn't, was blindsided by another realisation... he'd spent last night in a copper's bed!

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 7

He was suddenly angry, angry at Micah, and when the older man finally turned around, when his attention settled on him, he was ready for him, letting rip with, "You had them pick me up, you left me in there to stew, and you made sure they didn't release me til you were here!"

"What?"

The puzzled look on Micah's face served to infuriate him even more; he knew exactly what he was talking about. "Am I supposed to be grateful to you now? Show you some gratitude? Give a repeat performance of last night, maybe?"

"Aaron!"

Micah looked visibly shocked by his outburst, it had taken him aback too, he wasn't sure where it had come from, he just knew that it was a cheap and nasty display on his part, and that he regretted it. He couldn't bring himself to apologise though, anger still burning inside, still mad at Micah for being what he was. He had no time for the police, not one ounce of respect, and he certainly didn't trust them... but he'd trusted Micah last night.

His composure now restored, Micah was edging closer to him, like he was expecting him to bolt; if he was to hear something he didn't like, he just might.

"Look, I don't know what you think happened, but the police know me, they know my car and when they saw a stranger driving it, they... well they were just doing their job. They rang me and I told them that I knew you had the car...

"Yeah, right!" He spat scornfully, he was back on the defensive, "Like you were just going to let me take it..."

"I thought, hoped you'd come back."

The sincerity in Micah's voice had thrown him; he didn't know what to make of it and before he could stop himself, he said, "I thought about it." It was suddenly important that Micah knew that.

Micah was nodding, a smile tugging at his lips, obviously pleased by his admission, but he was beginning to regret that now too, he was wrong to give him even that scrap of encouragement.

"Aaron, we need to talk."

"No." That was the last thing they needed to do. Go their separate ways was what they should do.

"Did last night mean nothing to you?"

"It shouldn't have happened, it was a mistake."

"A mistake? Is that why you took off, because you regret what happened between us? I don't. I'm not in the habit of jumping into bed with someone I've only just met; I don't share body and soul with just anyone. I know last night wasn't a mistake, it was meant to happen, it was the beginning of something..."

"It was just sex, for me it was anyway!" He'd just seen something flash in Micah's eyes, hurt! He didn't want to hurt him, he just wanted him to back off, to leave him alone, to let him go on his way, but he was making it all so difficult.

"What are you scared of?"

"I'm not scared of anything."

"You were running scared this morning."

"No, I was just trying to avoid this conversation. I've been here before, many times." There, he'd made himself sound something he wasn't, hopefully something that held no appeal to Micah.

"You've made a habit of pushing people away, haven't you? They get a little too close and up go the barricades."

He didn't like that Micah was reading him so well, or how easily he saw through his lies, like he knew him, like he understood him. He was going to have to end this now, before Micah brought his walls tumbling down, and he would, given time. He'd been about to open his mouth, to say something else he'd hate himself for, but a ring tone had sounded, it had Micah reaching into his jacket pocket for his phone.

It was a timely distraction, one he should take advantage of, it should be easy enough to turn around and walk away now, but Micah had him pinned to the spot with his steady gaze. It was like he had some sort of a hold over him, one he was making no attempt to break. He didn't understand what was happening; he was blowing hot and cold, his thoughts, his emotions all over the place. He could make head-nor-tail of the phone conversation either, but it was over soon enough, Micah stuffing his phone back into his pocket as he apologised for the interruption,

"Sorry, but I'm more or less on call 24/7

He didn't need a reminder of what he did for a living and snapped out, "Shouldn't you be getting inside then." He'd gestured to the building behind him, to the police station, but Micah was giving him a puzzled look again, then suddenly it seemed a light had gone off in his head, he looked amused,

"You think I'm a policeman?"

"Well, you are, aren't you?"

"No, what gave you that idea?"

"You were just talking about bringing someone in."

"Yeah, a kid who needed to own up to doing something, who needed to do the right thing. I just provided the support he needed."

"So, you're what, a social worker?" He had nothing against them.

"No, although I suppose I work along similar lines at times.

"So, what are you then?" He was more than a little curious now, Micah sounded like some do-gooder, but what exactly.

"Like the police, my job comes with a uniform of sorts! Not that I wear it very often, Sundays mostly."

"What?" Was Micah teasing him or just edging around telling him his occupation for some reason. Whatever, he was losing patience now, a sense of unease starting to creep in. He watched as Micah unzipped his jacket, to then gesture to what he was wearing underneath.

"I suppose you could call this my badge of office."

He was stunned, he didn't know the proper name for it, he had only ever heard it referred to as a dog collar, but whatever it was, Micah, like Ashley... like the Reverend Ashley Thomas, was wearing one around his neck... no, no, he couldn't be!

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 8

He didn't know what to say, he didn't know what to think. He could only look at Micah in disbelief. The thought of him being a policeman had knocked him for six but this, this was even harder to get his head around. Why? He wasn't sure. Was it because the idea of him hooking up with a vicar was so laughable or was it because of the bitterness he felt towards Ashley? He'd never really had much to do with Ashley until... well, their paths had rarely crossed, and when they had, it was fleeting, they had absolutely nothing in common, they were poles apart. They'd say hi, good morning, all the usual things you said in passing with a neighbour. He'd had nothing against him, thought him a good man, what he stood for supposedly proof of that. But then when Jackson... when Ashley had made his feelings loud and clear on what had happened, what his so called principles had him do... not do, refuse to do, any respect, any belief he had in him was destroyed by those actions. How could he turn his back on Jackson? How could he let him down like that? He would never forgive him, never.

He'd been so lost in the memory of that time that he hadn't realised just how close Micah was to him. Only inches separated them now, and the grey eyes were looking intently into his, searching his, wanting to know what was going on in his head.

"Aaron? Is it that much of a shock, that unbelievable? I'm still the same person; I'm the same man you made love to last night, the same man whose arms you fell asleep in. Nothing's changed."

Micah was wrong, so very wrong, it changed everything! For a start, it had made it all the more complicated, it made the two of them together all the more wrong! The odds were against them before, but they didn't have a hope in hell's chance now. He wanted to tell Micah that, but then he'd have to explain why and he couldn't, he couldn't let him know what he was, the terrible thing he'd done.

He opened his mouth, willing something to come out of it, the right words, the words that would make Micah see sense, that would have him turn around and forget about him, but all that left his lips was his name, "Micah..."

"We can't talk here, so come back to mine. I've got a meeting I can't get out of, but I'll only be a couple of hours max, then we'll talk, and if, after we have, you find you still want to leave, then I promise I won't try to stop you."

He wanted to say no, him going to Micah's was dragging it out needlessly, postponing the inevitable. He'd walk the second the conversation was over. Of course he'd walk, there was no other option... so how come he'd just heard himself say "Ok"?

/

The car ride back to Micah's had been made more or less in silence, a strained silence. They were finding making small talk difficult and that was because the major stuff was coming between them. They were both relieved when the car finally pulled up outside the stone- built property. It was only then that Aaron noticed the house itself stood next to a church, that had escaped his attention both last night and earlier that morning. As he followed Micah in through the front door, he suddenly remembered something the older man had said last night. Micah had said of his home, "It's old and draughty, but it comes free with the job, so I can't complain." He hadn't asked him what his job was; he hadn't wanted to show any interest. He could have avoided all this if he had, last night wouldn't have happened if he had... or would it?

They were in the kitchen now, Micah gesturing first to the fridge and then to the cupboards next to it, saying, "Make yourself some breakfast, tea, coffee, whatever you want, I'll be back as soon as I can. Promise me you'll be here."

"I'll be here." Those three words had tripped reluctantly off his tongue; he knew he might have done another runner by then. Well that's what he did, he ran from things that scared him.

/

He was on his third mug of tea, he still hadn't gotten around to making himself something to eat though, his stomach was turning over on itself, threatening to eject anything he put in it. It was almost two hours since Micah had left, and he couldn't quite believe he was still sitting at his table, twice he'd almost legged it, twice he'd got as far as the door... he just couldn't go any further.

The waiting might have been easier if he'd switched on the radio or moved into the living room to watch TV, but he didn't really want such distractions, he wanted to make sense of what had happened since meeting Micah, make some sense of his feelings.

Micah had coaxed and cajoled him back to his, not that he'd needed all that much encouragement in the end, the promise of a hot meal in payment for his work on the car had been the thing that swayed him, he was starving.

He couldn't sit down to the table dirty though, could he? Before he knew it, he was stood under the shower's steaming jets. Then, while his clothes had a much-needed wash, he'd shared Micah's evening meal. Micah had done most of the talking, sticking to safe topics, like football and music. Washing up done, they'd moved to the living room, sat together on the sofa, soaking up the heat of the coal fire.

Then, suddenly, they were kissing. He still wasn't sure how that had come about; one minute they were laughing and, the next, they were putting their lips to an even better use. It had been no all-out snogging sesson, no lust-filled, face-eating fest, but a tender and gentle exchange of emotions, like they'd already done all that full-on stuff and had moved on, moved on to a deeper, a more sensual expression of their feelings. Micah had then silently led him to his bed, the next step, the true sharing of each other, something they'd each wanted more than they'd wanted their next breath.

The sound of the front door opening jolted him out of his reverie, Micah soon breezing into the kitchen, the relief on seeing him obvious.

"How was the meeting?" He was making an effort, determined to try and communicate, and that was a start, wasn't it?

Micah heaved a sigh, "Same as always, I'm in the Bishop's office at least once a month. He doesn't like the way I do things. I'm the proverbial black sheep."

Somehow, that didn't surprise him, his appearance alone told him Micah didn't toe the line. His shoulder-length hair, damp from the rain, was drying into a mass of untamed curls. His faded jeans were ripped, his trainers shabby looking. Micah looked more like a heavy rock musician than a man of God. If it wasn't for that thing around his neck, you'd never know he was a... no, no, that wasn't true, there was something about him, something he couldn't put his finger on right now, but there was definitely something that set Micah apart, and he suddenly realised that it was that something he was drawn to.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 9

Micah had made them both a mug of tea before sitting down at the table opposite him. His opening comment throwing him a little.

"I was half expecting to find you gone."

He shifted uncomfortably under the other man's unwavering gaze, he didn't want to admit to just how close he'd come to leaving.

"It's probably not the best time to ask this, but I'm thinking the sooner it's out of the way, the better. Are you in some sort of trouble?"

"No!" That had unsettled him further. Why did people always think the worst of him? The answer came swiftly, because he always gave them cause. In Micah's case, he'd made off with his car.

"But you're running from something or someone, aren't you?"

Micah was again a little too close for comfort with his observations, and he couldn't stop himself from snapping back scathingly at him: "Is this you playing at being a social worker, helping the community's waifs and strays?"

"No, this is me caring about you, wanting to help you..."

"Well I don't need any help."

"I'd say someone who's sleeping rough, who hasn't eaten in days, who hasn't got a penny to his name 'is' in need of help."

"Yeah, well, you've done your job, you've played the 'Good Samaritan' by feeding me, by giving me a bed for the night... not that that came free exactly!" He couldn't believe he'd just said that, that he'd stooped so low again."

"So you really believe I took advantage of the situation, that I was desperate for it and took advantage of you?"

No, he didn't believe that, not for a minute. He was just feeling cornered and like every other time, had hit out at the one responsible in a malicious way. He wasn't going to tell Micah that though, and just glared back at him. He could make whatever he wanted out of that response.

"No matter how last night might look, how it makes me look, relationships are something I take seriously, and that's why they've been few and far between. I've only slept with one other man, he... well, he was special, he was _the_ one, and I thought we'd go the distance..."

"You were wrong about him then?" Another uncalled for and snidely made comment, but Micah needed to see just how wrong he was about him, that he was wrong to want to get involved with him.

"No. I was right about him... but he died, I lost him."

Micah's revelation had taken a little while to sink in but, when it had, the words had come easily to him, "I'm sorry." He was, truly sorry; he knew the pain of losing someone you loved, someone who was everything to you, best friend and lover all rolled into one.

"It's a few years ago now, two to be exact. Time heals, Aaron."

Micah had said that like he knew he was hurting and why, like he could sense his pain, like he could see into his heart, into his head. He had to drop his gaze, look away from the seemingly all-seeing grey eyes. In the silence that followed, in the time Micah gave him to think his words through, he realised just how honest Micah had been with him, how open. He was deserving of the same, wasn't he? Reluctantly resuming eye contact, he said, "You're right, I am running from something... I'm running from me."

"Because you're gay?"

He could understand Micah thinking that way, and it would make things a whole lot easier if he lied and said yes, but he didn't want to lie to him, and anyway he'd see through his deception like he had everything else. "No, although I ran from that at first too."

"Which goes to prove you can't out run what scares you, what haunts you. It's alright, I know you're not ready to talk about it, but when that changes, and it will, well, you know where I am."

Micah had read him right again, he wasn't ready to talk about it, and he never would be, it was too ugly a thing to air, and certainly not with Micah. What would happen should good and evil collide? The same as when warm and cold air did, he supposed.

"One more question, one that if you answer honestly, might help you decide whether to walk out the front door or not.''

He wasn't sure he wanted to hear the question, was almost certain he wouldn't want to answer it, but gave Micah the go ahead to ask it anyway, "Alright."

"Last night, what happened between us, was it 'just sex' to you?"

/

He was cold, shivering as he stood looking up at the moon, looking but not really seeing, his mind turning the decision he'd made over and over. He had so many doubts, and he kept on questioning his reasons, wondering if it wasn't too late to change his mind... all the time knowing he didn't want to.

He should be trying to sleep, but that meant sleeping alone again, and he craved the warmth he'd felt last night.

Turning away from the window, his gaze fell on the single bed, it was inviting enough, he was sure it was as comfortable as the next, but it was empty. The one in the next room wasn't though; Micah was tucked up in that one.

In the end, after telling himself he had to lie and lie convincingly, he'd found he couldn't and had gone on to answer Micah's question honestly, admitted how he really felt about last night, and just how confused he was about it, that it was all too fast, all too sudden.

Micah had understood, had said he did, anyway. Then they'd talked about him being there, them agreeing he'd stay, but to take things slowly. That meant him sleeping in the spare room, but after spending the day with Micah, he was no longer sure he wanted to.

Just a wall separated them; it was no real obstacle, not if he didn't want it to be.

'It was now or never', he told himself and made for the door.

He was standing outside of Micah's room, his courage on the wane, it didn't seem such a good idea anymore, and anyway Micah could be asleep, probably was by now. He was dithering as only he could, he couldn't even decide if he should knock or not.

His hand was on the door handle now, his courage not having completely deserted him. It was another few minutes before he'd talked himself into turning it though.

The bedside light was on, Micah awake, a book in his hand, it seemed he couldn't sleep either.

He just needed a sign... and there it was, Micah setting down the book, tossing back the covers, making room for him...

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 10

As he settled in bed beside Micah, Aaron was again having doubts, what had happened with Jackson suddenly very much on his mind.

"You're not sure about this, are you?"

Micah was doing it again, reading his mind or seeming to. It had to be his body language that was giving him away; he knew he was unbelievably tense. His uncertainty had to be coming off him in waves, so there was no point trying to deny it, "No."

Micah was now looking intently into his eyes, probably wondering what to say, just what to do, maybe even having seconds thoughts about this, too; he wouldn't blame him if he was, he was making things so difficult.

"Well, now you're here, I'm not about to tell you to go."

After first reaching to switch off the bedside light, Micah had then wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. He knew that was as far as things would go between them tonight. Micah seemed to have sensed that what he really needed right now was to be held, to not be alone.

Warmed now, both physically and emotionally, he started to relax, and with the resulting sense of calm came a need to talk, to share something with Micah, something he hoped would help explain him... the way he was. He let the words Micah had used earlier that day echo back at him, "I've only ever slept with one man, he was special... only I realised that too late..." He suddenly wanted to tell Micah everything, every ugly, painful detail. He knew he needed to tell him about the terrible thing he'd done, he needed this man's understanding, he needed his acceptance, but that need, as great as it was, was far outweighed by the fear of his reaction, his rejection, and so the words refused to come, he couldn't get them passed his lips.

"Aaron?"

With that prompt, he heard himself say, "I messed up. I always mess up and I'm scared I'll mess this... us, up too."

"I'm not going to let you."

He had to fight the urge to say that it was too late, that he already had, because by not being totally honest, by not telling the entire truth, he had already messed up. He'd thrown a spanner into the works, and at some point, it would make its destructive presence known.

Micah would now believe that he had an ex out there, alright one no longer in the picture, but one who was alive and kicking all the same... his heart lurched painfully in his chest as the poignancy of his phrasing hit home.

Micah had tightened his hold on him, adding emphasis to the words he had used. He'd genuinely meant what he said, and Aaron knew he should have taken comfort from that fact, but he couldn't. He still didn't understand what they had, what it was they seemed to have found with each other, how they could connect so quickly, so easily. But he did know that whatever it was, he wanted it desperately, and he wanted to hold on to it. He knew he could be happy with Micah, that this was his chance to get it right.

They'd fallen quiet, Micah seemingly content with what had just passed between them, for now anyway. But it was eating away at him, his thoughts, his guilt tormenting him. The truth would come out, wouldn't it? According to the old saying, it always did. He didn't want to hurt Micah, he didn't want to disappoint him, he didn't want him to think bad of him. He didn't want Micah to ever look at him like Ashley and like a lot of people had done, with disbelief and then with disgust.

He knew he had a decision to make. Did he perpetuate the lie, and it was a lie, albeit an unintentional one? Did he let Micah keep on thinking what he did now or did he tell him everything, and risk losing everything in the process? He didn't like the answer he kept getting to his question, but knew it was the right one. It was best he told Micah everything before they got in any deeper, before they got too close, too involved, when rejection really would be too much to bear.

Tomorrow he was going to have to man-up and do the right thing... he'd tell Micah tomorrow. He was at least spared the ordeal tonight, because Micah was now asleep, his soft, rhythmic breathing telling him that much.

It took a little while but he, too, began to succumb to sleep... only there was some annoying noise in the background, irritating and insistent, stopping him just short of falling into the black abyss...

Someone was knocking and knocking loudly on the front door!

"Micah!" Getting some indiscernible response back, he nudged the older man none so gently in an effort to rouse him from his slumber.

"What?"

"There's someone at the door." Right on cue had come the knocking again, and on hearing it, Micah had leapt from the bed, hurriedly pulling on his clothes.

His clothes being in the next room, Aaron had made for the door."

"Where you going?"

"To make myself decent." Surely Micah, as vicar, wouldn't want him seen parading around in his boxers?

"It's alright, go back to bed," Micah insisted evenly as he edged passed Aaron on his way out of the room.

But things obviously weren't alright, they couldn't be, not if someone was pounding on his door at gone one in the morning! Micah seemed unfazed by it though, like it was the sort of thing that happened all the time.

Aaron hovered at the top of the stairs, eavesdropping shamelessly, he could hear a woman's voice, she was obviously upset, verging on hysterical. It was hard to make out what she was saying but he could hear Micah trying to calm her down, to reassure her. Just minutes later, Micah was bounding back up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Aaron followed him back into his bedroom, where in a hushed voice the older man started to explain what was going on.

"There's a woman's refuge in Medfort, I'm going to take her there."

"Refuge?"

"Yeah, she's had one slap in the mouth too many, has finally seen sense!"

He didn't know what to say, or what to do, but he thought he should be saying or doing something to help, "Do you want me to come with you?" He realised that probably wouldn't be at all helpful, the minute the suggestion had left his lips, but Micah had smiled at him, reached out and caressed his cheek before saying, "No, no need, I'll get her settled and be back as soon as I can, you keep the bed warm."

He had gone back to bed, but was finding it impossible to sleep, having just had a small taste of Micah's life. Yesterday he'd told him he was on call more or less 24/7 and he'd just had proof of that.

He'd mocked him yesterday, tried to belittle him for wanting to help him. Now, he realised it was something he did, that service to the community was his way of life. It was an untimely reminder of just how very different they were, that they were poles apart!

He'd been kidding himself, hadn't he? They both had. It would never work. They were both lonely, both in need of some affection, some intimacy, something they'd both had with someone they had cared deeply about... and then all of that had been stolen from them.

That was the connection! It was that need that was pulling them together. He realised with a jolt that it was never destined to last!

It was half past three before he heard the front door creak open, five minutes later, Micah was climbing into bed beside him, dropping a kiss on his lips on finding him still awake. Suddenly, that kiss wasn't enough for him, he wanted Micah, needed him one last time...

The alarm had woken them and while Micah had showered and readied himself for his Sunday obligations, he'd gone downstairs to make them both a drink.

As he stirred the heaped spoonfuls of sugar into his mug, he told himself he had to stay strong, that he couldn't give Micah any indication of what was coming, that when he came home later that morning, he would be returning to an empty house, finding him long since gone. His resolve was set, but when Micah had walked into the room, a smile on his face, believing everything to be right with his world, he found he couldn't look him in the eye.

"What's wrong, Aaron?"

Micah didn't miss a thing, now he had him cornered, leaving him with no option but to say it like it was.

"This, us, it's not going to work." He could tell by the look on the other man's face that he hadn't seen that coming, he seemed at a loss as to what to say and he wasn't much better, but as he struggled to find the words he needed, Micah began to speak.

"Is this to do with what you told me last night? You still have feelings for the man you talked about, don't you? He's still on your mind, you still love him. That's what you're running from, isn't it?"

"No. No, it's not like that, it's not what you think."

"Then, what..."

"Something happened between us, he thought... then his van, it... it went off the road. He almost died, and maybe it would have been better if he had because... he was paralysed from the neck down. I tried, me and his mum, we both tried so hard but he didn't want to live that way. He asked her to help him end his life, he asked me to understand. I didn't, not at first, but he made me see it was what he wanted, the only thing he wanted.

''When the time came, she couldn't, Hazel just couldn't do it. He was begging, pleading, so I did what his mum couldn't do." He could see the shock on Micah's face, knew he was struggling with what he'd just been told. Maybe he needed a bit of time for it to sink in, but he couldn't give him that time, he had to keep talking, he had to get it all said.

"It went to trial, I was up for murder. They should have found me guilty... but they didn't, they let me go. You wanted to know what I was running from, well now you do. I'm running from what I did... and I'm always going to be running from it."

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 11

The silence seemed to go on forever, and when finally it was broken, it was with words that made no sense, not to him, not after what he'd just said, after what he'd just told Micah.

"Sit down."

"What?" Hadn't Micah heard him? Hadn't he heard him just confess to killing a man?

"You're shaking, you need to sit down."

Micah had just taken a step towards him, was slowly edging closer, but he was already too close, already invading his space, the space he needed right now. "What I need to do is leave, get as far away from here as possible, and what you need is for me to be gone!"

"No." He was more than a little thrown by what Aaron had just said, but he knew he had to instil some calm into his voice, knew he had to somehow take charge of the situation. ''That's just what you don't need, to be on your own, to run from someone who cares about you, who wants you in his life. You're not going anywhere, Aaron. It's time to stop running away."

Again, he was struggling to digest Micah's words, to make sense of them, he didn't know what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't that. "But, what I did?"

"What? You expect me to act as Judge and juror? Well, someone already has! If you want me to do what they didn't, to condemn you, to damn you, then think again. I can understand what you did and why, and I know that it was done out of love, that you did what your heart told you to do that day... and that it was broken in the process. Now, please, sit down."

He let Micah lead him over to a chair, his leaden legs threatening to betray him at any time. Micah was right, he had needed to sit down, once again his emotions had got the better of him, only this time it had left him weak, drained. As he tried to rein in those emotions, to regain some physical strength, Micah set a glass of water into his still-trembling hand, moving then to sit opposite him at the table. Concern was all he could see in the grey eyes, and he realised just how very wrong he'd been last night, how he'd somehow managed to twist things, that it wasn't just some basic need drawing them together... no, Micah did truly care about him, and he cared equally about Micah. But that wasn't enough, was it? Not when they came from so very different worlds? He was so confused right now, he needed to think, but Micah was talking to him again...

"There's a lot you haven't said, a lot you haven't told me." He knew Aaron had only skimmed the surface, that there was a lot more buried hurt and anguish that desperately needed to be aired.

"Now's not the time, you've got to be somewhere else." He had no intention of sharing anything else with Micah.

"And as soon as I turn my back, you'll be gone..."

"No." Right now, he wasn't sure what he'd do, his head was all over the place, and doing another runner was still a very real possibility, but he couldn't admit to that.

"If you could look me in the eye and say that, then I would believe you, but you can't, can you?" The averted gaze was all the confirmation he needed. So where did he go from here? All he knew for sure was that he had to keep Aaron talking; he didn't want him clamming up on him, closing down, shutting him out. This was almost certainly his one and only chance to reach him, "So, you took off after the trial and have been running ever since?"

"No." He met Micah's questioning gaze, he hadn't wanted to say anything else, he'd said more than enough as it was, but found he couldn't stop himself from opening up some more, "I tried, I went back to work, I tried to get on with my life... but I was making their lives hell."

"Who? Your family? Your friends? What about your parents, Aaron? Have you been in touch with them? Do they have any idea where you are?" He'd suspected that there wasn't anyone, no one close anyway, he'd be more than happy to be proved wrong about that.

"They're better off not knowing..."

"That's not your decision to make, they at least have a right to know you're safe, they have a right to some peace of mind."

He shook his head scornfully at that comment, well, when had they ever known peace of mind where he was concerned? "You don't know what I've put them through..."

"What you're putting them through now has to beat anything else hands down!"

"No." He'd caused them all so much worry these last few years, so much heartache, he'd had Paddy and Rhona at each other's throat, his mum and Hazel tearing strips off each other. How could it be any worse for them with him gone? Why were they talking about them anyway? "This isn't about them!"

"But it is, because you need them, Aaron..."

"No, I don't need anyone."

"We all need someone. You need them... and you need me."

He opened his mouth ready to deny that, but realised he couldn't, Micah would see right through the lie, and it would be a lie. Instead, he turned the older man's words back on him, in what he knew was a desperate, feeble attempt to make him see he wasn't what Micah needed... he couldn't be! "Well, you don't need the likes of me in your life!"

"You hate yourself, don't you?"

"Trust me, there's nothing to like!"

"You think that's going to scare me off? I'm wise to you now, Aaron. You might have pushed everyone else away, distanced yourself both physically and emotionally... but I'm not going to let you push me away."

He was floundering helplessly now, but not quite ready to admit defeat, "Micah, if you knew me, really knew me..."

"Aaron, you're just very lost right now, and that's because you've lost sight of why you did what you did. You're hurting and you're scared, but most of all you're angry at yourself. That has to change! You have to face what you feel, work through it, let the hurt and the anger go. You have to stop punishing yourself, because that's what it all boils down to, you're doing what you believe the court failed to do.

"It won't be easy and it will take time, and it's not something you can do on your own. The first step is a big one, and for you, it could be the biggest step of all... because first, you have to accept that you need help, that you need my help, that you need me."

He wanted to tell Micah he was wrong, that he'd got it all wrong, and that he didn't need help, especially not his. But the denials wouldn't come, and not because there was no fight left in him, but because he just couldn't lie to him... because whatever it was he felt for Micah wouldn't let him.

Micah was looking at him expectantly, waiting on his response, and he was about to give him one... the very one he wanted to hear.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 12

Micah had obviously been a little wary about leaving, about leaving him, and he could understand why: he had run out on him before, and Micah knew he'd had it in his head to do so again.

He'd been about to open the front door, but had hesitated and looked back over his shoulder at him, a questioning look in his eye, he knew immediately what the older man was thinking and had jumped right in with some reassurance, "I'm not going anywhere."

Micah's face had brightened at that, a smile tugging at his lips as he'd walked outside into the early morning rain.

While Micah was doing what he did, he intended to make himself useful. He knew that, if he didn't occupy himself, he'd start brooding, maybe even start questioning his most recent decision, and he didn't want to come anywhere close to doing that.

The house was clean and tidy, but he was certain he could find things to do if he looked hard enough. Before Rhona had come along, he and Paddy had shared the household chores, well not shared exactly, but he'd certainly helped out. He was going to have to do better than that here; he was going to have to pull his weight.

There was at least one load of washing waiting to be done and the weather being wet it meant he'd have to stick it in the tumble dryer if it was to ever dry. He could sort the fire out, set it ready to light later, and then there was the task of bringing in logs from the pile stacked near the back door. What else could he add to his to-do list? From what Micah had said in passing, the garden shed needed a good clear out but he'd need better weather to do that.

What he really needed to do with his time right now was find a job, he couldn't expect to sit idly by while Micah worked, while Micah kept him fed and kept a roof over his head... he'd heard of a kept woman but not of a kept man, and he hated the very thought of it. They had talked about it, him and Micah, when he'd first agreed to stay; Micah had said he would ask around but, in the meantime, he could help with some voluntary work if he wanted. He wasn't sure what that would entail, wasn't sure he wanted to find out either, he wasn't like Micah, he didn't have his temperament, his open, outgoing personality... let alone his calling to help others. No, maybe it would be better if he steered well clear of that side of his life.

As he stuffed the contents of the laundry basket into the washing machine, he remembered how Micah had earlier encouraged him to phone home, to at least text and let them know he was ok. He'd promised to think about it, and on remembering that promise, decided his next job would be to charge his phone. That was something, wasn't it? A step in the right direction at least. Telling himself to concentrate on the job at hand, he poured some detergent in what he thought, hoped, was the right compartment; he wasn't sure how to work this machine, it wasn't like the one he was used to using at Paddy's. After randomly pressing a few buttons, it began to fill with water and, satisfied it was doing its job, he then made his way upstairs.

His phone was tucked at the bottom of his rucksack, buried under his clothes... he was still to unpack, and now he'd realised that he wasn't sure what he should do with his stuff. Should he put it in the spare room's wardrobe or in Micah's? He was sharing his bed, so... then again; maybe he should ask him first? Or maybe he should just move everything of his... which wasn't much... in with Micah's stuff, showing him he was taking the relationship seriously, and at the same time that he really wasn't planning on legging it again. After some more thought on the matter, he'd decided that that was the right thing to do, so with his phone now plugged into a wall socket, he opened Micah's wardrobe. It didn't surprise him to find that there wasn't all that much in there. Micah wasn't the materialistic type, and what he had was simple, plain, he certainly wasn't fashion-conscious, well neither was he, he knew what he liked and stuck to it.

With his things now put away, he found himself looking around the bedroom. He'd not paid much attention to it before, he'd been otherwise engaged when in here previously and it had been mostly dark. Like the rest of the house the room had a minimal look, yet it was cosy, he certainly felt comfortable here, at ease somehow, like he belonged... and he hadn't felt like that in a long time.

Something had just caught his eye, a framed photograph, one of Micah with another man. He stepped over to it, snatching it up for a closer look. He knew instantly it was Micah's boyfriend, the one who'd died. Something else just as evident in the captured moment in time, was that they were happy, in love. He hadn't asked Micah about him, he didn't even know his name, he felt guilty about that now, at his selfish lack of interest. So far, it had all been about him, him and his problems, his pain. Micah must still be hurting, still feel his loss, must still have times when he needed to unload some of that pain... well, he was here for those times now. He at least understood that depth of pain, the agonizing ache of loss. He'd thought them very different, and they were in so many ways, but they had one very important fact in common, they'd both lost someone they'd loved, someone they'd been in love with.

The sound of his phone suddenly bursting into life made him start, he set the picture down carefully, it was obviously something Micah treasured, and he felt a little guilty for touching it now, as if he'd intruded on a private memory. His attention then turned back to his mobile, to the seemingly endless stream of alert tones now coming from it. Texts, missed calls, voice mails, it seemed they hadn't given up on trying to reach him. His thoughts drifted back to the night he'd left Emmerdale, he'd started hitching a lift once clear of Hotton, a long distance lorry driver had picked him up, and after they'd exhausted all topics of conversation, he'd pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped out a message, sending it to everyone he thought would notice him gone. It was simple and to the point, telling them he'd left and wouldn't be coming back. He realised now how thoughtless, how cruel a text it was. They'd deserved better than that, some reassurance from him that he was alright at least. Micah was right, he had to get in touch, not just yet though; he needed to work himself up to it, another selfish act but it was that or nothing right now.

Moving over to the room's one and only window, he looked out at the road below, he could see the God Brigade making their way to church... that thought brought him up short. He was going to have to watch what he said around Micah, he didn't want to offend him in anyway, and a comment like that just might. He suddenly wondered if Micah's congregation knew he was gay… 'of course they did', he reasoned. Another thought struck him then, 'just how easy was it for him being gay and a vicar? Wouldn't the Church have issues with that? Again, he realised that it was something he should have asked Micah about, he should have shown some kind of interest in his work at least. It was another reminder of just how one-sided it was, how it had so far all revolved around him. He was going to have to make a conscious effort to change that.

If he was to be completely honest, the fact Micah was a vicar still hadn't sunk in; he was still struggling to get his head around it. There was nothing stuffy or straitlaced about him, he was nothing at all like Ashley and Ashley was exactly how he imagined a vicar to be... old, boring, narrow-minded and a prude to boot. Well, Micah was none of those things, he was anything but.

The sudden silence had him turn around and eye his phone again, the alerts having finally come to an end. He wanted to leave it where it was, walk out the door and forget about it. He'd managed to do just that for the last few months but, he found he couldn't.

With a resigned sigh, he walked over to it, picked it up and began to scroll through the names highlighted on the screen. Paddy's, his mum's, Hazel's, there were even texts and calls from Cain and Adam. It would take forever to read them all, he didn't want to anyway, he knew exactly what they'd say, and so with the press of a button, he deleted them.

Sitting down on the bed, he started to tap out a message, he knew it was the coward's way to get in touch but, he wasn't ready to talk to any one of them, not yet. He'd been going to switch it off, try and forget about what he'd just done but, almost immediately, it had started to ring, Paddy's name flashing up at him. He told himself to ignore it, but was suddenly overwhelmed by the need to hear the older man's voice.

Accepting the call, he held the phone to his ear... and there it was, the outpouring of relief, of concern, of love...

TBC


	13. Chapter 13

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 13

Micah had said he'd probably be gone for hours and, as it turned out, he was right. Apart from taking the morning service, he'd had home visits to make. Aaron guessed it was them that were eating away at his time.

There had been a strange mix of actually missing him, wanting him there, and relief at having some time alone to compose himself, to quell the rebellious tears that, even an hour after his and Paddy's brief conversation, continued to quietly fall. Paddy had been emotional and it had rubbed off all too easily on him. Paddy had done most of the talking too, like always. He'd wanted constant reassurance from him that he was alright, he'd asked repeatedly where he was, at one point demanding that he tell him so he could come pick him up and take him home. The older man had had to accept he wasn't ready for that step yet and had made him promise to keep in touch, and to ring his mum. She was, according to Paddy, 'going out of her mind with worry'.

They hadn't got passed that kind of stuff, the emotions had got in the way, so no serious talking had been done. When it looked like the conversation was going to turn that way, when it seemed Paddy was in pursuit of some answers, he'd made some excuse and ended the call, switching off his phone before it had a chance to ring again.

He'd gone straight downstairs and made himself a drink, intent on getting on with some chores, but he'd sat down at the table instead, and there he'd stayed, his thoughts eventually straying to the past and staying there. It was the sort of brooding he'd desperately wanted to avoid.

He'd only realized what he'd been doing when the front door had opened and Micah had walked in. It was that sudden activity that had jolted him out of his reverie and on to his feet. Switching on the kettle, he tried not to meet Micah's gaze, but that, of course, proved impossible. The older man had come home laden with plastic containers, the type you took your lunch to work in; Micah was soon explaining their presence.

"Mrs. Dean, over at Highgate. She's riddled with arthritis, more or less housebound these days, but she can still cook up a storm! Every Sunday, she makes something for me, she's made enough to feed the five thousand this week!"

Aaron guessed there was a joke there somewhere but it was lost on him; still, he'd forced a smile, hoping to put Micah off the scent of him being on a downer, and failing miserably.

"You ok?"

He'd reassured him he was as he set two mugs of tea on the table. Micah seemed accepting of his reassurance because he didn't press him any further, instead he'd handed him the containers, asking him to pick something out for their lunch while he went upstairs to change. He'd heaved a sigh of relief, it gave him a bit more time to get his act together.

On opening his wardrobe door, Micah realized that in his absence, he had accumulated a few more items of clothing. It had made him smile and, for a little while, the development had eclipsed his concerns over Aaron. He might have said he was ok but, the redness around his eyes told a different story. Something had got to him; was it what he'd shared with him earlier or something else? Replacing what he liked to call his work clobber with an old sweater, he made for the door, noticing something else of Aaron's as he did so. Had he phoned home? Was that what had upset him? Because something certainly had.

He found the younger man plating up the casserole Eliza Dean had made him. Aaron had his back turned to him so he got right up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist, quietly sharing something in his ear, "Seeing your trackies hanging next to my jeans is something of a turn on!" The teasing had earned him a genuine smile, and he felt Aaron relax in his arms. But, for the life of him, he just couldn't leave things at that, "That's not all you did this morning though, is it?" He felt Aaron tense again, a second later he was pulling away from him, putting some distance between the two of them before responding to his question.

"No."

He could, probably should have asked if Aaron wanted to talk about it, but decided not to give him any option. Pulling out a chair, he eased himself down onto it as he ploughed on in with, "So, what happened?" He hoped Aaron would join him at the table, and after a few seconds hesitation he did, and in an accusatory tone said,

"I did what you told me to do."

Micah wasn't sure what was going on in Aaron's head but was certain he needed pushing into talking about it, "And now you're wishing you hadn't?"

"Yes! No, it's just… I wish I'd done it before now."

"Did they give you a hard time?"

"No, it was just hard listening to Paddy, he kept asking me to go home…"

"Aaron, if you'd rather be there…"

"No, I don't want to go back there, not yet anyway."

"The next time will be easier."

He was about to say there wasn't going to be a next time, not if it was going to cut him up this much, but a loud knocking on the front door had him swallow his words. Micah had immediately got to his feet but, before he'd even reached the door to the hallway, the knocking had come again, louder and more insistent. It seemed someone else was in need of Micah's help, hopefully not another battered wife.

Thinking it best to keep out of the way, he'd remained seated, picking up his tea and sipping on it. Only when all hell suddenly broke out along the passageway did he get to his feet.

Someone, some nut-job had Micah pinned up against the wall, he watched in stunned fascination as Micah reasoned calmly with the other man, his voice all but drowned out by anger-fuelled threats and demands. It seemed their unwanted guest was missing a wife and was holding Micah responsible.

The anger had come out of nowhere, the next thing he knew he was hauling the stranger off of Micah, violently shoving him backwards out the door, and all the time yelling some threats of his own. His appearance was obviously unexpected and had shaken the other man. He wasn't so brave now, he was making for the gate, he was still shouting threats though and as he'd made to go after him, determined to shut him up one way or another, Micah had caught hold of him and wrestled him inside, pleading with him to calm down.

Once in the kitchen, Micah had shut the door behind him, standing there silently, watching him pace, watching him as he tried to walk off his rage. He wasn't quiet for long though, he soon found his voice, his words echoing his astonishment.

"What the hell's got into you?"

Micah had just had his eyes opened, just not enough, squaring up to him, he snarled back, "This is the real me, Micah! I'm no better than that tosspot out there. At some point, you're going to get in my face, push me too far and I'm going to snap! I'll turn on you, that's not the first time I've lost it and it won't be the last. Is that the sort of person you want in your life?'' He should have stopped there, but the venom was flowing again, and he was needing to spit some poison, "Yeah, maybe it is! You needed a bit of rough in your sad, boring, righteous life and now you've had a taste of what you're missing you can't let go, that's the real reason you want me to stay, isn't it?" He'd just hurt Micah again, he could see it in his eyes, it was enough to shut him up, to have him start regretting his outburst.

"You finished? Good, because I'm going to tell you how it really is, Aaron. Something throws you, spooks you and up go the defenses. You mouth off because you know how words can hurt, just how deep a wound they can make. This is you pushing me away again. Just half a day in and you're already getting ready to run! Well, you know where the door is, what you waiting for?"

TBC


	14. Chapter 14

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 14

Well, what was he waiting for? He didn't know. Micah had just given him the green light... only he hadn't, not really. He was forcing his hand, daring him almost. And it would be so easy to make for the door, collect his stuff and take off. With every step, he would tell himself he'd done the right thing, that he didn't need Micah, and Micah certainly didn't need him. But they were old and tried excuses now, weren't they? Ones he'd already reasoned against.

A few miles down the road, he would start regretting his decision, but would be too stubborn to turn around and come back, and so he would keep on walking, running as Micah called what he did, what he'd made a habit of doing when he was scared or when life got a little too tough.

He wouldn't have shed any pain in his time here; he would just have added to it, because he would have the pain of losing Micah, too.

"I don't want to go." The admission had taken him by surprise, he hadn't been ready to air his thoughts aloud, not when he was still turning them over in his head and especially not when he was so very wary of Micah's reaction. Which, it turned out, surprised him too, it really took him aback. Micah had just resumed his seat at the table, picked up his mug and started to drink the tea it contained... just like nothing had happened, only something had, something ugly and unpleasant.

There was no verbal comeback, no invite from Micah to join him, no further encouragement for him to go, so he just stood there, in a sort of limbo. He eventually realised the ball was in his court, he just wasn't sure what to do with it. The answer came, eventually, well it was staring him in the face, and so he, too, sat back down, ready as he ever would be to talk, and knowing the first thing past his lips had to be an apology. "I'm sorry."

"That was you getting all protective, wasn't it?"

He felt a rush of heat to his cheeks and had to look away, suddenly embarrassed, he realised with a jolt that it was exactly why he'd reacted the way he did, because someone had dared lay a hand on Micah, had got violent with him; his reaction had been extreme but, at least, he could understand it now.

"If you knew me better, Aaron, you'd know there was no need, I can look after myself."

He wanted to argue that point, because from where he was standing, Micah had looked in desperate need of some help, but then he didn't really know Micah, not like he should, the older man could have a black belt in karate for all he knew. "I want to..." he paused, struggling with another admission, having to force out the remaining words, "I want to know you better, I... I want to know all there is to know."

"You already know I'm sad, boring and righteous, so you're off to a good start!"

Micah was teasing him now, he could see a mischievous glint in his eyes, he was trying to put him at ease, wanting to make it easier for him to open up. Still, he couldn't see the funny side, he wasn't prepared to even try, he just wanted to somehow take back what he'd said, "I didn't mean that, I'm sorry..."

"I know you are, just like I know you're nothing like that idiot that's just been here. You're nothing like the Tom Bryant's of the world. With him, it's all to do with power, control, he wants to be the big man. If only he realised just how small his actions make him. With you, it's a build-up of emotion, not knowing how to control it, how to channel it."

"You don't have to make excuses for me, Micah..."

"I'm not, I wouldn't do that, I just want you to see there are reasons for the way you are, for the things you do, and that understanding a problem, getting to the root of it, is the best way of conquering it."

"Counselling?" That's what Micah was working up to suggesting, wasn't it?

"You've thought about it, then?"

"Tried not to more like! Paddy suggested it, he more or less ordered me to have it. Things were getting out of control... I was getting out of control. That last night at home... I wasn't home, that's just it. I spent the night in a police cell, for being drunk and disorderly, mouthing off at the cops. Paddy came to pick me up so I mouthed off at him, kicked his car door in. But he's like you, he won't give up on me."

"Whoever this Paddy is, I like the sound of him, he obviously cares a great deal about you."

He hadn't given Micah any details about his home life, he had let him believe he had two parents in the picture, that he came from an ordinary family. Well, there was nothing ordinary about his lot, nothing straightforward, it had been a right mess, or had been until Paddy had come along. "It's a long story."

"And one I'd like to hear."

"But, Micah, about before..." Were they just going to pretend his flare-up had never happened? Sweep it under the carpet? Was that the right thing to do?

"Let it go, Aaron, look at it as a hiccup in proceedings, don't let it become something else you hold on to and use to punish yourself."

He wanted to promise it wouldn't happen again, but he didn't want to make a promise that there was no guarantee of him keeping, as much as he wanted too. "Ok."

"Well, come on, tell me, what's Paddy to you?"

He sat back in his chair, wondering just where to start to answer that one.

/

It was Monday morning, another wet day, the rain pelting against the kitchen window, driven by a howling gale. As he stared out at the downpour, he reminded himself he could be out in that, trudging down some endless road or country lane, cold, wet and hungry, just like he had been when he'd first met Micah. Yesterday, Micah had saved him from that misery again, had saved him from himself.

The morning might have been a near-disaster but, the rest of the day had been good, better than good, they'd talked and he'd made sure it wasn't all about himself, he'd got to know more about Micah too, about his family, even a little about Matt, how he'd died, how he'd lost a hard-fought battle with illness. They'd only touched on that part of Micah's past, he was wise enough to know that it wasn't really the time to go down that path, but one day, soon, when it wasn't so much about him settling in... well, they would go back there, he'd make sure of that.

Micah was on the phone in the hallway, had been for the last ten minutes or so. It was only nine o'clock and it was already the third call he'd taken this morning, he knew they weren't social calls, that they were all in some way to do with his work. He knew Micah's work was going to keep him busy most of today, too, and that meant he was going to have to find something to do himself. There was only so much domesticity he was willing to expose himself to. He was itching to do some real work, he really missed working with cars, cars he was interested in, cars he understood. He planned on using Micah's computer to help hunt down a job, and according to him, the local paper came out the next day. There just might be something in that, there probably wouldn't be any mechanics jobs going, that was too much to ask for, but he'd take just about anything right now, he hated leaching of Micah, not that he saw it that way.

He was just about to take Micah's tea into the hallway when he walked into the room. He knew instantly Micah's mood had changed, something had knocked the smile off his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Same old, same old, the Bishop wants to see me."

"You in the dog house again."

"It looks that way."

"So, what have you done this time? Stolen from the collection plate?" He knew Micah would laugh at his teasing, and he did, but the amusement just didn't reach his eyes, and that told him he had to take this a bit more seriously, "You've got no idea what it's about?"

Micah wasn't sure how best to answer that question. Did he tell a white lie and say no, hope he could straighten things out before telling Aaron, or did he admit he did, and throw the younger man a curve ball in the process? Someone, and he had a good idea who––well, she did live just across the road and was a well-known curtain-shifter––, had talked! It had to be her, it had to be Milly Holden who'd reported 'the goings-on at the vicarage', the 'yob' he'd taken in, the one who yesterday had assaulted a parishioner!

TBC


	15. Chapter 15

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 15

In the end, the decision had been an easy one, and that was to be upfront with Aaron, fill him in on what the phone call had been about. He wouldn't appreciate not being told, no matter how good his intentions.

What wasn't so easy was the actual telling, the explaining of why the Bishop's secretary had phoned him first thing that morning. Annie shouldn't really have given him any details, but she had a soft spot for him and wanted to give him some warning of what was coming his way. He was more than grateful to her, he'd have hated to walk into the Bishop's office and find himself confronted with that, at least now he was prepared and wouldn't have to think on his feet.

An array of emotions had, one by one, appeared on Aaron's face, as he realised there was some fallout over yesterday's events. He himself wasn't too concerned, he was just worried that Aaron would take it to heart, have something else to feel guilty about.

"Look, don't worry, I'll sort it out, I'll tell him how it really is, what really happened..."

"And what are you going to say? That you picked up some runaway off the street? That on closer inspection, you realised you fancied the pants off him... and did... literally?"

He couldn't help but laugh at Aaron's choice of phrasing, "Well, if you put it like that, then I'm a doomed man..."

"Micah, it's not funny!" How could he laugh about something like that, he was in trouble because of him, him and his temper.

"No, it's not, but it's also not true, and once the Bishop hears my side of things, he'll realise that, end of story."

"I don't think so somehow."

"Aaron, the Bishop's just doing his job, he has to act on these things, but he's a reasonable man, a good man, nothing will come of it."

"So, what are you going to say? How are you going to explain me being here for starters?"

"I am allowed to have people stay, I'm not a hermit or a monk for that matter..."

"You could tell him I'm a friend." 'That,' Aaron reasoned, 'might save Micah some grief.'

"That wouldn't be the whole truth though, would it? We're more than friends, Aaron, a lot more, we're lovers, we're...''

"You can't tell him that!" They'd only just met! The Bishop wouldn't understand what was between them, it just wouldn't reflect well on Micah, not with him being what he was. "What's he going to think? What's he going to say?"

"Well, once he's picked his chin up off the floor, I..."

"Micah!" He was doing it again, joking about something he was in deep shit over.

"Well, you're taking this way too seriously." Exactly what he hadn't wanted Aaron to do.

"And you're not taking it seriously enough."

"But I am, me and the Bishop are old sparring partners, he likes me, he probably wouldn't admit to it, but he does, it'll be fine, I know it will." He was certain it would be, he and John Peters often butted heads, but he'd always found him to be fair.

"I'm sorry." So far, he'd not said that but he was, truly sorry. He wasn't sure just what trouble it would cause for Micah, a quiet telling off or something at the other end of the scale, him getting sacked! No, now he was overreacting! Still, whatever happened, it didn't look good, did it, a vicar shacked up with a hot tempered chav!

/

Micah's meeting with the Bishop was taking place at one, he had promised to drop by the house right after to let him know how it had gone. In the meantime, he'd parked himself in the living room, was sitting at Micah's computer desk, trawling through the few websites he'd found that offered any possibility of a job. There wasn't much going locally; in fact, he'd only come across one vacancy and it held absolutely no appeal... there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of him becoming an apprentice hairdresser! He wasn't that desperate for work... well, he was, but he'd rather starve than do that. Hopefully, the paper Micah mentioned would have something more appropriate in it.

Eyeing the clock on the mantelpiece, he felt a pang of concern, Micah was being grilled about what had happened right about now. 'Setting the record straight,' as Micah had called it. He hoped it proved as simple as he'd made it sound.

He decided to make himself a drink, and raid the biscuit tin too, he would then dunk to his heart's content, indulge in some comfort food, while he waited for Micah to come home.

As he got to his feet, he heard someone rap on the front door. His first thought was to ignore it, it wouldn't be for him. Still, he'd made his way into the hallway, opened the door and was instantly wishing he hadn't. One look at the grey-haired man he found standing there told him he was important, in Micah's life he was anyway. He wore similar clothes to Micah's, except where Micah's shirt was a drab grey colour, this man's was purple.

"Good afternoon, I'm Bishop Peters, who might you be?"

The greeting was both friendly and cheerful, but Aaron had realised with horror that this was 'the' Bishop, the one Micah answered to. "Aaron."

"Aaron! That's a fine name, a biblical name, he was a brother to Moses, you've heard of him, I presume?"

"Yes." He'd heard the name before, although that probably had more to do with his family's habit of landing their kids with biblical names. He most likely had an Uncle Moses somewhere. The naming was a joke come to think of it; just look at what his mum was called!

"I called on the off chance Reverend James was home, is he here?"

"No."

"Would you be expecting him anytime soon?"

"Yes." He knew the one-word answers weren't doing him any favours, but he was scared of saying the wrong thing, something that came all too easy to him. For Micah's sake he had to keep a civil tongue in his head. "Do you want to come in and wait?" He couldn't not offer, could he? He stepped to one side leaving the way clear for the older man to enter, closing the door before reluctantly following him into the kitchen.

Once seated, the Bishop eyed him expectantly, saying, "A cup of tea would be most welcome."

He instantly sprang into action, wishing he'd remembered his manners and had been the one to offer. He just felt so nervous, so on edge, and one thought kept going through his mind, 'if the Bishop was here, where the hell was Micah?'

After setting two cups of tea on the table, he sat himself down opposite the other man, trying to think of something, anything to make conversation. Once again, it was the Bishop who took the lead.

"You know why I'm here, don't you, Aaron?"

There was something about the way the Bishop had said those words, something in his tone of voice he found reassuring, like he was aware of his discomfort and wanted to put him at ease, it was working, too. "Yeah. Look, it wasn't Micah's fault...'' Once he'd started, he couldn't stop, his earlier hesitancy suddenly turning to verbal diarrhoea. Explanation given, he waited for the Bishop's response.

"I didn't think it would be quite the way I heard it, the real version not being nearly so dramatic, but dramatic enough, I suppose. Micah has a penchant for attracting trouble... that comment is not aimed at you, by the way! I can't help but worry about him, and believe me, he's given me cause these last few years."

Micah and trouble! They somehow didn't go hand in hand. Now him and trouble, that was a different matter. He'd started to relax a little now, he found himself liking the Bishop, and what he'd said about Micah was now registering and had him wanting to know more, "What'd you mean?" The Bishop had opened his mouth as if to answer, then seemingly, change his mind, looking thoughtful before finally asking,

"It's none of my business, I know, but, you and Micah, are you... what is it you young people say these days... an item?"

"Yes, yes we are." He hadn't hesitated, had come right back with his answer, now what would the Bishop have to say about that?

TBC


	16. Chapter 16

My thanks to Sylvain for the Beta work.

Runaway

Part 16

Aaron wasn't expecting the Bishop's first reaction to be a smile. A look of horror on his face, yes, one of shock maybe, or even of surprise, but not for him to look at all pleased, but he did!

"I thought so or, rather, I hoped so."

He didn't know what to make of that comment. It was something else he found himself struggling to get his head around. The other man knew nothing about him, except that he'd seen a violent Tom Bryant off church premises... with some physical force and aggression of his own! That wasn't something that could work in his favour, could it? Was this conversation really taking place?

The Bishop was talking again, he told himself to concentrate, to stop letting his thoughts stray.

"After Matthew... you know about Matthew, I take it?"

"Yes."

"Yes, well after he died, Micah threw himself into his work, he left no time for himself. Oh, he's grieved, moved on as they say but, there's been no one else. That's why I'm delighted to hear there is, at last, someone new in his life. Have the two of you been together long?

The sudden, unexpected question threw him, and he couldn't hide his discomfort as he admitted, "Not long." Three days, three nights was nothing, it was no time at all, but it seemed like he'd known Micah forever. The Bishop wouldn't understand that though.

"Forgive me, I'm prying. Like I said, it's none of my business. It's just... well, I know Micah thinks God put me on this Earth just to give him a hard time but, in reality, it's the other way round. Micah is a law to himself, he takes such risks. There's an old saying, fools rush in where angels fear to tread. Micah's no fool, but then he doesn't think twice about getting involved with things it would be wise to avoid. He needs someone, something... an anchor in his life..."

The front door had just opened, drawing the Bishop's attention; his, though, was still on the older man. He couldn't make head nor tail of what he'd been telling him. What sort of risks did Micah take? And what did he mean by an anchor? And should he be telling him all this anyway?

Micah had now walked into the room, Aaron's gaze moving to settle on him. He could see that the grey eyes were now locked on the Bishop, and that Micah didn't look at all happy to see him.

"What are you doing here?"

Micah's tone of voice confirmed Aaron's suspicions and he wondered if he should maybe make himself scarce, leave the two older men to it. He quickly decided against that idea, thinking it might be better if he stuck around.

"Aaron and I were just getting to know each other."

"You cancelled our meeting! You said something had come up, that you had to be in Dulton, and now you're here. Why?"

"That spot of business in Dulton didn't take quite as long as expected, and as I was in the area I thought I might just catch you in."

"Catch me out more like!"

"Now, Micah..."

"You couldn't just wait and give me the opportunity to explain, to give you my version of events. You had to come and see for yourself if what that old harridan said was true."

"Micah..."

"You know how she likes to stir things up, how she fills in any and all gaps in a story with figments of her vivid imagination..."

"Yes, I'm quite aware of how Mrs Holden likes to embellish the truth... God forgive me, that wasn't particularly charitable of me... but it was true all the same."

The Bishop had just winked at him, his green eyes twinkling wickedly, and despite everything, Micah's mood especially, Aaron found himself grinning, he really did like this man. Micah was annoyed with him though, that was painfully obvious. And maybe because that emotion was clouding his mind right now, he didn't seem to have heard a word of what the Bishop had said to him, the conciliatory tone he'd used, and had totally missed the fact he was well aware of what had really gone on, because he'd just launched into another tirade.

"She phones you every time I as much as sneeze! She doesn't like my hair, she doesn't like my clothes, or the fact I like a pint or three... she hates everything there is about me..." And because she did, she made a habit of letting his superiors know whenever she believed he'd stepped out of line, whenever it looked like he'd done something that might reflect badly on the Church.

"Micah! Millicent is, I will admit, a little old-fashioned, but she has your best interests at heart..."

"Yeah, right!" More like she twisted things so as to drop him in it from a great height. She could fire whatever ammunition she liked at him, but not at Aaron, she'd involved him and he wasn't prepared to let her start using him for target practice too.

"She obviously overreacted in this instance, let that imagination of hers get the better of her once again, but her actions were, I'm certain, purely out of concern for you. You have to admit she's witnessed things in the past that give credence to that."

"What things?" Again, Aaron's curiosity was piqued, what had this Milly woman seen? What was he missing here? Just what had Micah done that caused so much concern? He might be very much in the dark still but this was all starting to prove a bit of an eye-opener where Micah was concerned.

"It was nothing."

He didn't like the way Micah had so casually dismissed his question, and the Bishop was soon making it clear that he wasn't impressed by it either.

"I wouldn't call some crowbar-wielding ruffian, turning up here at two in the morning, smashing the windows 'nothing' Micah! Especially not when it was you he wanted to do some damage to!

"What?" Aaron exclaimed. What the hell? Micah was a vicar, why would anyone want to hurt him?

"It was a warning, that's all."

"And it wasn't the first or the last and it was later acted upon, remember? Not something I choose to forget even if you can, and not something I believe Aaron would be able to forget either..."

"Micah?" He wanted some answers and he wanted them now. It didn't seem he was about to get any though, Micah's gaze was locked with the Bishop's. He looked about to speak, to try and regain some of the ground he'd just lost, but the phone started to ring, and it proved the perfect distraction, because he turned around and headed into the hallway to answer it. Well, he wasn't going to wait for him to get around to telling him what he wanted to know, and so he eyed the Bishop expectantly, he was going to have to fill him in. The older man hesitated only briefly, glancing through the open doorway to where Micah now stood, well out of earshot.

"I might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb, I suppose! This is a small parish, Aaron, there's certainly not enough going on here to feed Micah's enthusiasm, his need to help, his thirst to make right all that's wrong, so he inevitably ventured further afield. The nearby towns, the city, they all seem innocuous enough places, but take a closer look and you find the unthinkable, the things most of us would rather not see, pretend didn't exist. At first, it was the homeless, the runaways he was involved with. Sadly, for a great many of them, they're just a step away from things like prostitution, alcohol and drug addiction, and whatever other nastiness there is out there. Micah put himself in the thick of it. He's made a difference, yes, but at a price, he crossed people you don't cross, he made enemies. Some would say he's just answering his calling, doing his job and doing it well. I would say he's careless with his very life, and that he needs to value it more. I believe he would if there was a centre to his universe, some sort of gravitational pull, something he couldn't ignore, something he had to respect... something he couldn't bear to lose."

If he was confused before, he was even more so now. He could imagine Micah being involved with such things, not backing down, not letting anything scare him off. What he couldn't understand, what he couldn't get straight in his head was that the Bishop was talking about him, that he seemed to think that he was the something, the someone that could save Micah from himself!

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

My thanks to Sylvain for the Beta work.

Runaway

Part 17

Before Aaron had had a chance to react, to respond in any way, the Bishop was getting to his feet, telling him he had to be going, that he had business elsewhere, and that he hoped they would meet again and soon. He'd got to his feet too, absently shaking the older man's proffered hand, still a little dazed by everything he'd just heard, by the morning's events in general.

He'd been following the older man to the door, intent on seeing him out, what with Micah being otherwise engaged, it seemed the right thing to do. In the process, he had started to wonder if he should maybe try and persuade the Bishop to stay, that would give Micah a chance to clear the air between the two of them. But he could see Micah was now making his way along the hallway, and so he hung back, giving the two men some privacy, thinking they would find it easier to talk without him there.

He set about washing the cups and could hear them talking above the sound of the running water. He couldn't make out what they were saying but one thing was clear, Micah didn't sound anywhere near as irritable as he'd done before. It seemed it was catching though, because he was starting to feel restless, uneasy.

The two men had just gone outside and Aaron told himself that in Micah's absence he had to get a grip, and not let himself get any more worked up. As it turned out, that was something that was easier said than done, because in the silence of the kitchen, with nothing to distract him, thoughts and images invoked by his conversation with the Bishop refused to be quashed, serving to feed his agitation.

It was a good ten minutes before Micah finally walked back in to the room, and he was, by then, more than ready for him... ready to have a pop at him. "You said he was a reasonable man, that he'd hear your side of the story and nothing would come of it, so what was all that about? Why'd you give him such a hard time?"

"You like him, then?"

That wasn't the comeback he'd expected, especially not accompanied by a grin. Micah was trying to jolly him along like he had earlier that morning, except that now it only served to wind him up some more! Still, he heard himself say, "Yeah..." because, of course, he liked the Bishop, he'd given him every reason to, and he could see he genuinely cared about Micah, and had picked up on the fact that he did too. "... he's sound."

Micah nodded his agreement, knowing the older man would be amused by Aaron's summing up of him, quickly going on to say something that would hopefully appease Aaron, "I just apologised to him."

"Right." That hadn't come as any great surprise, but it had thrown him off course a little, he wasn't ready to let Micah off with what had happened just yet, he couldn't believe he'd been so off with the other man, he'd been bang out of order, "You didn't give him a chance to explain."

"No, I was in the wrong and I told him so. When I saw his car, when I realised he was here, that you were having to face him alone..."

"That was you getting all protective, wasn't it?" Tossing Micah's words back at him was becoming a bit of a habit, but he'd just realised what was behind Micah's behaviour. Whereas he'd got all embarrassed when Micah had asked him that, Micah had acknowledged the truth with a smile.

"Yeah, it was. I got a bit carried away too." He knew how worried Aaron had been about his meeting with the Bishop, how he feared his actions were going to land him in trouble. He wasn't sure how he'd react to the Bishop showing up, but was certain it would unsettle him in some way; it didn't seem to take much.

It would be so easy to back off now, Micah's admission having all but disarmed him, but he wasn't going to. They were still to discuss the thing that had stirred him up the most, the thing that had had his stomach turning over. "What he said..."

"He was blowing things out of proportion." He didn't want Aaron doing the same.

"No, I don't think he was, I think you were playing it down. That warning he said was acted on? You got a good kicking, didn't you?"

"It wasn't that bad..."

"A hospital job?"

"Aaron..."

"Micah, I want to know!"

"Yes, a hospital job." He'd reluctantly spent a few days as an inpatient.

"Were you going to tell me?"

"It was months ago now..."

"I mean were you going to tell me what you do, the things you get involved in?"

"I have told you."

"Not in any great detail, you haven't. I thought you just handed out blankets, dished out soup and advice."

"That's exactly what I do..."

"I'm not stupid, Micah, so stop treating me like I am. That's just a small part of what you do, there's a lot more to it than that, and you've stirred up some shit in the process. Are they likely to come back..."

"Aaron, if you're scared..."

"I'm not scared for me! I'm scared for you. Micah, believe me, I really can look after myself, but you... what good are words against someone like that? You couldn't even talk that Bryant bloke down."

"I know what I'm doing."

"That's just it, you don't! I know the sort of people you're dealing with; I've been on the wrong side of them too. They don't forget and they don't forgive, what they do, Micah, is get even! You keep messing with the likes of them and you'll end up dead."

"What do you mean you've been on the wrong side of..."

"This isn't about me, it's about you." Micah wasn't going to get out of this by turning it back on him.

"Whatever trouble you were in, I'm guessing someone helped get you out of it. Am I right?"

He knew where this was going now, and grudgingly forced out, "Yeah."

"All I'm doing is providing the same kind of help, making sure it's there for those wanting it, needing it. Ask yourself where you would be now if there'd been no one in your corner."

"This is different..."

"No, it's not, not really. Aaron... if you're thinking of asking me to stop, please, don't."

TBC


	18. Chapter 18

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 18

He was sitting all alone at the kitchen table again. But not brooding this time, more getting his thoughts in order, taking stock of things, maybe even doing a little soul-searching.

Like the Bishop, Micah had needed to be someplace else, and he was starting to realise just how busy Micah's work kept him, that he was always at its beck and call. He could live with that, he didn't need to be with someone every minute of the day and night; he liked his own space, his own company, for limited spells he did anyway. But what he didn't like, what he found himself hating, was that Micah's involvement with the seedier side of life brought him to the attention of the ruthless, of the merciless bastards that traded on other people's misery and misfortune.

As he'd told Micah, he'd been involved with such low-lifes too. The McFarlanes to be exact. They were, he supposed, in comparison, 'small time', but as small an organisation as they were, they had had their fingers in just about every kind of pie. And they liked to act big; they had even been prepared to have him disappear for good. He was fifteen, just a kid! If the small fry could do something like that to him, what would the big fish do to Micah? Should he really get in their way, tread too heavily on their toes, that thing he wore around his neck wouldn't save him, nothing would.

He cared about Micah, really cared about him, and he'd realised he was falling in love with him. He hadn't known what was happening to him with Jackson, didn't know what he was feeling at the time, had gone out of his way to avoid thinking about it, had been too scared to work those feelings out, until it was too late.

But as he'd sat here purposefully thinking on such things, he'd realised it was happening again. There had been a moment of blind panic, but that's as a long as the fear had lasted, because he knew Micah was special, that Micah could be special to him... if he'd just let it happen, and he wanted it to happen. He wanted to be loved, wanted, needed. He wanted what he knew would make him complete, what would fill the empty place inside. He'd had it with Jackson for all of what seemed like a second, he'd had a taste, a glimpse of being truly happy, and now he realised he was just like everyone else, and that like everyone else he should reach out and grab what was there for the taking, not run from it.

He felt comfortable with Micah, at ease, even safe. He could be himself, Micah accepted him the way he was, so too everything he'd done. And Micah understood him, better than anyone else did... it hurt to say it because it felt like some sort of betrayal... but Micah understood him better than Jackson had. Micah could read him like a book and that had thrown him at times, but now he realised he liked that he could, and that it was a good thing, because that meant he didn't pose some complex puzzle to the older man, one he'd inevitably get tired of unravelling, one that, given time, he would give up on.

And just like Micah accepted everything he was, he had to do the same in return. The hardest part was to accept what he did, and learn to live with it.

It would be different if he was doing something wrong, something bad, he could fight him on it then, but he wasn't. He was helping clear up other people's mess, the mess they'd made of their lives. No, he couldn't ask him to stop doing what he felt such a great need to do. He could though ask him to be careful, to not take risks, and that's exactly what he'd done, what he'd said to Micah when he'd looked him in the eye saying, "If you're thinking of asking me to stop, please, don't."

His reply had been instant, had tripped quietly off his tongue, "I don't want you to get hurt, I don't want to lose someone else I care about. So what I am asking is for you to be careful, to not go doing anything stupid." Only now did he understand why it had come so easily to him.

Micah had promised him he wouldn't, had told him again that he knew what he was doing, before thanking him for understanding, for supporting him. He'd realised then just how much it had meant to him.

It had been a significant moment for both of them, and he knew it had brought them a little closer. Micah had kissed him, it had been another tender exchange of emotion, something words just couldn't express. But when Micah had pulled away, he'd been smiling, and had quickly changed the mood, throwing him with a suggestion, one that had seemingly come right out of the blue.

"How about we go out tonight, down a few pints, grab a take away?"

Looking back, he realised Micah had just wanted to take his mind off things, by doing some every day stuff, things a normal couple did.

The first thing out of his mouth had been 'no', but he should have known better than to put up any kind of protest. The reason behind his reluctance was pride. He didn't have any money, and nothing he'd want to be seen out in. He'd eventually had to admit that to Micah and, of course, he'd shot down his excuses, telling him when he did have money burning a hole in his pocket, then the drinks were on him and, as for clothes, well he wasn't planning on going anywhere fancy, just his local, and he could help himself to something of his, they were more or less the same size, so that was no problem. So left with no excuses, he'd eventually agreed. He was actually looking forward to it now.

The clothes thing had been something Micah had latched onto, and had used it to talk him into doing something else, into something he didn't think he was ready for yet, and that was into going home. Micah had said he didn't have to stay long, just long enough for Paddy and his mum to see for themselves that he was ok. He'd been adamant he wasn't going, but Micah wouldn't drop it, and had eventually cornered him with, "I thought you'd stopped running." He'd given up the fight then, admitted defeat.

This time next Saturday, he'd be back in Emmerdale, and as much as he missed everyone, he really wasn't looking forward to that!

TBC


	19. Chapter 19

My thanks to Sylvain for the Beta work

Runaway

Part 19

The three-hour journey to Emmerdale was almost over, the village just a few miles away now. The view from his window was looking all so familiar to him, around every corner were landmarks he knew so well.

Micah had done a great job of buoying him up, of reassuring him, but every now and again his stomach would flip over in anticipation, and during the odd lull in conversation, when he'd start to dwell on what was to come, he'd force his mind onto something else. Right now, he was remembering... reliving Monday night, his first ever night out with Micah. It had been a laugh from start to finish, Micah had surprised him a time or two, but then Micah was full of surprises!

Things had kicked off with them getting ready. While Micah had showered, he'd picked through his clothes, he already knew there wasn't all that much to choose from and that Micah's tastes were simple. That meant he had a choice of jeans or... jeans! There was a bit more variety top-wise and he eventually settled on a shirt, simply because of its pale blue colour, nothing else had appealed to him.

He'd pulled on the jeans, and had half-buttoned up the shirt and was taking a wary look in the mirror. He didn't feel particularly comfortable in what he was wearing but it was either that or his own tatty stuff.

When he'd left home, when he'd 'run away', he'd grabbed the essentials, the basics, only as much as he could stuff into his rucksack, he'd left his better clobber behind, and what he had brought with him had suffered since because of wear and tear, the odd job he'd found being casual labour, farming mostly.

He'd never really dressed to impress before, and he wasn't now, but because he was going to Micah's local, he wanted to make some kind of an effort, he didn't want to show him up in any way... and that would mean he had to be on his best behaviour too...

Micah had just walked into the bedroom and had caught him checking himself out.

"No, your bum doesn't look big in them."

He should have known the teasing wouldn't end there. Micah was looking him up and down, grinning as he added, "You fill them out nicely."

He gave Micah his best scowl, but the other man was on a roll, seemingly unstoppable.

"I've said it before and I'll say it again, you scrub up well...very well! It looks like you're in need of some help with those buttons though..."

"What?" Micah's hands were on him... only he wasn't fastening his shirt as he'd expected him to do from his comment... he was undoing the few buttons he'd previously secured. He was happy to let him do that, knowing where it was leading, but hadn't Micah forgotten something, "I thought we were going out."

"The pub's not going anywhere... and neither are we just yet!"

It was another hour at least before they'd finally walked into the King's Head, Micah leading the way. The sign outside the pub had read Karaoke Night and the event was already in full swing. Some wrinkly was in the process of murdering a song, one he didn't know, and didn't want to hear again anytime soon.

The place wasn't exactly packed but there was a good-sized crowd, and Micah seemed to know just about everyone there, greeting them by name and a warm smile.

Micah had turned to him at the bar and suggested he grab a table, adding, "And not one in a dark corner, I want to show you off."

He was teasing him again, and he'd grinned on cue even though he hadn't found it funny. It mattered what people thought of him, didn't it? In this particular neck of the woods, it did anyway, it mattered because of what Micah was, what he did. He was scared he'd fall far short of people's expectations, he had a past that let him down for starters... he told himself not to go there, not to put a dampener on things and made his way over to the nearest free table, acknowledging anyone who made eye contact with a nod of his head or a small smile, again determined to make the right sort of effort for Micah's sake.

He was, to his dismay, attracting a lot of attention, he wasn't imagining the inquisitive looks he was getting, knew the locals had to be wondering who he was, and just what he was doing with the Reverend Micah James, and were no doubt putting two and two together.

It was a relief when a few minutes later, Micah set a couple of pints down onto the table, and slid into the chair beside him. He'd wanted to know what he thought of the place, saying they could always move on somewhere else if he found the 'entertainment' too hard on the ears.

It had sounded a good idea to him, but he'd kept that thought to himself, telling Micah the place was alright, that it had a good atmosphere. And it did, he just felt a little uncomfortable, but that would change, wouldn't it? It would become his 'local' in time.

The old dear had been coaxed away from the mike with the promise of a port and lemon; thankfully, the next 'singer' up had a better voice and had chosen a better song, one he knew. The following applause couldn't persuade the woman to sing another song though, and the landlord was soon looking for someone else to share their talent. There were to be no takers and his attention eventually fell on their table...

"Come on Rev, there's no show without Punch!"

He had no idea what that meant, but with a little more encouragement from those around him, Micah was soon getting to his feet, and to his horror asking him to join him.

"No way!" He stated adamantly, he'd had one pint, he'd need another six at least before he would even consider making a fool of himself in front of all these people. He was, though, eager to see Micah in action.

He was half expecting Micah's song choice to be something like _My Way_, that song seemed the perfect choice somehow. But Micah took him by surprise again, belting out _Sweet Child of Mine_ and 'playing' the air guitar through the instrumental bits! He found he couldn't take his eyes off him, and he wasn't the only one lapping it up, everyone else was, too. He had a feeling they'd seen it all before though, that the performance wasn't such a revelation to them.

Micah certainly knew how to let go, how to have a good time, he envied him that...

/

"Where now?"

Micah's voice had cut into his thoughts and he realised they were stopped at a junction. He looked around to get his bearings, "Left." They were only minutes away, and he was soon guiding Micah into the village, asking him to pull up, Micah bringing the car to a halt outside of Paddy's.

While he kept his eyes fixed on the dashboard, Micah was having a good look around, he could see most of the village from this vantage point.

"That cafe looks open, I'll wait there..."

"No. I want you to come in with me." He couldn't do this on his own, he couldn't face all the questions, the fuss they'd make, with Micah there they'd tone it down a bit.

"This is something you need to do on your own."

"Micah..."

" I'll give you an hour and then I'll come meet everyone, ok?"

"Half an hour!" He wasn't going to beg but he would bargain. Thirty minutes was more than enough time to explain himself and take any and all flack coming his way."

"Half an hour it is."

Throwing open the car door, he took a steadying breath; he just wanted this over with.

/

Micah watched Aaron make his way to the door, the uncertainty coming off him in waves, he knew though that as soon as he got the other side of that door, it would all melt away, that he would realise he'd done the right thing in coming today. The younger man had just turned to look at him, was obviously in need of some more encouragement. 'Go on', he mouthed, gesturing with his hand for him to go inside. He breathed a sigh of relief when the door shut behind him, knowing that was the hardest bit over and done with.

He had no qualms about leaving Aaron to it, and got out of the car and made his way down to the cafe, taking a closer look at the village as he did so. It looked like a nice place, it seemed quiet and well kept. A pub was at the centre of it, that had to be the one Aaron's mum co-owned, he reasoned, the village didn't look big enough to have two pubs. She was in for a surprise today, all her Christmases coming at once.

Aaron had wanted to see Paddy first, it seemed he felt better able to face him, and from what he knew of their relationship, he could understand why. He was looking forward to meeting him, meeting all of Aaron's family in fact, they sounded an interesting bunch.

The smell of coffee greeted him at the door, so too the smell of something even more tasty, food! He was suddenly hungry, well it wasn't far off lunch time. He'd have a pasty or something, it would fill a gap and help fill the half-hour he had to wait out.

"Well! Things are looking up!"

The loudly made comment had come from another customer and was, it seemed, aimed at him. The dark-haired woman was smiling in his direction, giving him the 'slow once over'. He smiled indulgently; that was as far as she was ever going to get with him!

/

He'd found the kitchen empty and was a little relieved at that, it gave him a minute to look around, to let where he was sink in. It didn't look any different, and it had the same welcoming feel to it, all these months later, it still felt like home, he knew it always would.

He could hear the TV in the next room, and slowly made his way over to the door, taking yet another steadying breath before opening it. He could see Paddy, he was sitting on the sofa, seemingly engrossed in some film, it seemed a shame to disturb him, and he wasn't sure how best to anyway. In the end, he went for something light-hearted, calling "Anyone home?"

Paddy had turned around on hearing him, his face a picture of pure surprise on seeing him standing there. All he could think of right then was that he was relieved Rhona wasn't there, as much as he liked her, she'd have been in the way, he couldn't say what he needed to if she was here.

"Aaron!"

Paddy had got to his feet now, but still seemed dazed, like he couldn't quite believe he was there, like it wasn't quite registering. It was registering with him though; the emotions were surging up inside, the tears already threatening to fall. He took the step down into the living room, edging closer, there was so much he wanted to say, but all that would come out of his mouth was "I am sorry." He'd put Paddy through hell, and he knew just how much now.

The three words seemed to have snapped Paddy out of his trance because he was hurrying over to him... wrapping his arms around him, lovingly hugging him like he'd done so many times before.

/

Whoever she was, she was a shameless flirt. It was all good-natured though, a bit of harmless fun, although he had an idea that it wouldn't take much to encourage her, she was probably the village's resident man-eater, everyplace had one.

As he'd stood by the counter ordering his food, she'd continued to 'chat' to him, getting up close, flashing her big brown eyes at him as she made one after another suggestive remark. This was where his clerical collar would have come in handy, then again, maybe not where she was concerned. He couldn't help but like her though, she was upbeat and friendly, a little too friendly perhaps, but she was helping taking his mind of Aaron right now.

His food ready, he excused himself and moved to a table, her attention at last turning to someone else. She had the sort of voice that carried, and he could hear her above the sound of everything else. It was almost impossible to block her out, but he did for a while, until he'd eaten every crumb of the homemade pie. He'd heard a ringtone sound and her voice had soared to a new level, uttering a name he recognised, followed by another one he knew so very well. She sounded shocked, and looking in her direction, he could see she'd just been told something that was taking a little while to sink in, but when it did, when the news her son was home finally hit her, she was making for the door.

So that was Chastity Dingle! He was finding it a little hard to believe. Well, she and Aaron were nothing alike, not in looks or in personality, not from what he'd seen so far anyway. There was nothing of the brash flirt that reminded him in any way of Aaron, and he was quite pleased about that.

TBC


	20. Chapter 20

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work

Runaway

Part 20

Paddy had been the first to regain his composure and, as always, had taken charge of the situation, had sat him down, given him a few minutes to pull himself together, waiting patiently for him to talk, to explain.

He wished he'd put some thought into what he was going to say, that he had worked it out in his head, rehearsed it even. It would have been a lot easier, because now he was desperately searching for something, for reasons that would make sense to the older man.

"I had to leave, I couldn't stay, not the way I was, my head all over the place. I shouldn't have taken off like that though, I know that now. I just thought it was the best thing for everyone. I wasn't thinking straight... but my head's in a better place now, Paddy."

"So, what happened?" 'Something must have happened', Paddy reasoned, something had to have caused such a change.

"I met Micah."

"Micah?"

"He talked me into phoning you, into coming today. You're going to like him, Paddy, I know you will."

"I'm sure I will." Of course he'd like him! Whoever this Micah was, he'd persuaded his boy to come home, he would be eternally grateful to him for that, and for whatever else he'd done to help him. So, who was he and was this a platonic relationship or something more? As much as he'd like to believe Aaron had moved on from Jackson, he couldn't quite believe it. He was in need of some clarification on the matter, but was a little wary of pushing Aaron on what might prove a sensitive topic, "So when do I get to meet him?"

"In a bit."

"What, he's here? Where? You haven't left him outside, have you?"

"He's gone to the cafe; he wanted to give us time to talk."

"Aaron, you and him... well, are you ... you know... together?" He needed to know, he needed to have the right perspective on the situation at least.

"Yeah." He couldn't help but smile at that thought.

"It's been months, have you been with him all this time?" He'd prefer to think he had been rather than on his own God knows where.

"No. I don't really know where I've been for most of that time, moving from place to place, job to job. It didn't matter, nothing mattered, but then he... I tried running from him too, at first, but he wouldn't let me. He made me see what I was doing, that I couldn't run forever, that I had to face things... and somehow I can now that I'm with him. Right from the first minute I saw him, I knew, but I didn't want to believe I could care about someone else like I did for Jackson, not so soon, not ever. I didn't want to, I was scared, I'd made such a mess of things before. But I've never wanted anything as much as I want to be with him." The words had just spewed from his mouth, there had been no stopping them, but he'd wanted Paddy to know what it was he was feeling, it was important that he did, he didn't want him questioning what he had with Micah.

Paddy was nodding his understanding, a little taken aback by Aaron's candidness; he'd just opened his heart to him, and without needing any encouragement. This Micah seemed to have had a profound effect on Aaron. He tried to picture him in his head and the image forming was of someone a lot older than Aaron, someone mature, someone more than a little wise to the world. Not that an age difference would matter to him, all that did matter was that he cared about Aaron, and that in doing so had got him through a very dark time in his life, helped him find the light at end of the tunnel. Something no one here in Emmerdale had been able to do... He'd just realised something, a truth that tore at his heart, "So this is just a visit, you're not back to stay?"

"No. You understand why, don't you, Paddy?"

"Yes." He couldn't say he was happy about it though. From what Aaron had just told him, it certainly seemed the right thing for him, to be with this Micah, but… was it? Only time would tell. And he'd much prefer to have him someplace closer to home, where he could keep an eye on him, see him regularly. He knew that was a selfish need on his part but, he wasn't going to apologise for loving him, for wanting him in his life. He wasn't sure how Chas would react to the news either; she wouldn't want to let him out of her sight again anymore than he did. And while he remembered about Chas, "Aaron, your mum, I've got to let her know you're here."

Aaron wanted to say 'not yet', he wanted the peace that was Paddy, the understanding he provided and that his mother would almost certainly lack. She'd give him hell, that voice of hers leaving his ears ringing for hours after... he wanted desperately to see her though, "Ok"

Although Paddy had held his mobile close to his ear, he'd heard every word his mother had said. He hadn't needed Paddy to tell him she was on her way. Before she did come though, there was someone he wanted to ask about, "How's Hazel?"

"Coping." She was, just about, Aaron taking off had dealt her another blow, but she'd been doing a lot better since he'd told her the lad had phoned. She was someone else who would have difficulty letting Aaron go.

"She'll understand, won't she? About me and Micah?"

Paddy wanted to say yes, of course Hazel would understand, but he wasn't so sure she would. Chas crashing through the front door saved him from having to answer that burning question. The clatter of high heels warning them of her rapid approach. He got to his feet along with Aaron, ready to intervene if needed. Chas didn't always react the way she should, she was emotionally volatile and Aaron had inherited that trait from her. It should be a happy reunion but, one wrong word from her and...

"Where the hell have you been? How could you do that to us? As if you haven't put us through enough as it is!"

'And there it was', Paddy thought, cringing inwardly, 'the worst thing she could possible say right now', "Chas!"

That had stung, but then it was true, his mum had a right to be angry, he'd been expecting a bollocking from her, but maybe once she'd got it out of her system, she'd be ready to listen to him. She was suddenly very quiet, it seemed Paddy had managed to shut her up with just his tone of voice, not something easily done... were those tears trickling down her cheeks?

"Oh, love!"

Another hug, one that threatened to squeeze the life out of him, it felt good though, his mother's arms around him.

/

Micah checked his watch for the umpteenth time; he'd left Aaron well over thirty minutes ago and was feeling guilty about leaving him longer than promised. He didn't want to trespass on some much-needed private time, but he couldn't keep delaying it, Aaron just might need him. Downing the last of what was his second mug of tea, he made for the cafe door, eager to see how things had gone between Aaron and his family, and wondering how Chastity would react on realising she'd been flirting with her son's boyfriend. Hopefully she could laugh it off.

Rapping on the door Aaron had gone in through, he realised there was something else he should be worrying about, and that was what Paddy and Chastity would think of him. It was important that they like him, 'please God they do'.

He could tell by Aaron's face that things had gone well, the redness around his eyes telling him it had got emotional. The younger man had ushered him inside before he'd had a chance to ask him about it. Finding the room they were in, the kitchen, empty, he quietly pushed for some info, "Well?"

"You were right", Aaron said with a smile. "Come on, they're in there."

Aaron certainly seemed eager for him to meet his parents, and he took that as another good sign, and that they knew all about him and Aaron. He followed him into the next room, feeling more than a little nervous, it had been a while since he'd been in such a position.

He was met by a beaming smile, Paddy's! He liked the older man instantly, could see he was everything Aaron had led him to believe he was... but as for Chastity... well, there was no smile on her face, she had a stricken look about her, mortified was probably a good word to describe her right now.

Paddy had to admit, Micah wasn't anything like he'd been expecting him to be, he didn't look all that much older than Aaron, was probably in his mid to late twenties, he was a good-looking lad. Alright, his hair was a little too long for his liking, but what did that matter? Even if he hadn't known what this young man had done for Aaron, his first impression would still have been a good one, he had an open face, a ready smile, a calm and confident air about him. He'd been about to step forward, his hand outstretched ready to greet the other man, but Chas had just swore out loud, had uttered a very unladylike oath, taking them all by surprise. All eyes turned to her, he didn't quite know what to make of her reaction on seeing Micah, and Aaron was certainly far from pleased by it...

"Mam!"

"Well, he... I... I mean I didn't know, I wouldn't have... not if I'd known."

"What?" Aaron demanded, what was she trying to say? What had she done now?

Micah could see Aaron's mother was floundering, and wondered if maybe he should step in and explain things, "We met earlier, in the cafe, obviously we didn't know who each other was then and there was a bit of a misunderstanding..."

It took Aaron all of a second to guess what had really happened, he'd seen his mother in action before, when some bloke had caught her eye, when she thought he wasn't around, "That was no misunderstanding, Micah, that's how she is!"

/

It had been a bit of harmless fun, that's all. It certainly wasn't worth the upset it had caused. It had rocked the boat and badly! He'd thought Aaron would laugh it off but no, he supposed he should have known better, Aaron took everything so seriously. It seemed he'd been left humiliated by his mother's behaviour. Micah had to admit, if his mother had done something like that, he would have been too, but then his mother was in her fifties and a retired vicar's wife.

The atmosphere had, for a while, been unbearably frosty, Aaron either ignoring his mother's attempts at conversation or biting her head off. Paddy had come to the rescue, separating the pair by suggesting he make them all a drink, insisting Chastity help him. With the two of them safely in the kitchen, Micah had turned to Aaron, determined to make him see how ridiculous this all was. "You didn't come all this way, to see her for the first time in months, to then go and fall out about nothing..."

"It wasn't nothing."

"It was just a bit of fun..."

"Well, I'm not laughing."

"No, you wouldn't..."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I just think you need to lighten up." Gently prodding Aaron in his chest, Micah added, "I know you've got a sense of humour in there somewhere, it's time to let it out. Oh, come on, how can you not see the funny side? Your mum flirting with a gay vicar! It made me laugh, and if I can laugh about it, why can't you?" When that failed to have the desired effect, he decided to play the pity card, "You saw how embarrassed she was, she must have turned a hundred shades of red..."

"Like you could see under all that slap she wears!"

"Aaron, I like her..." He was starting to see what the real issue was here, "I do, I really like her, so don't think what happened made me think any less of her... or of you for that matter, because it didn't. Nothing would." That seemed to have hit the spot, he'd just seen the tension drain from Aaron's face, his features soften into a small smile.

"She doesn't know you're a vicar, not yet!" He'd been in the process of telling her all about Micah when he'd knocked on the door, he hadn't got around to telling Paddy either, so they were both in for a surprise or, maybe, that should be a shock, hopefully one that would stop his mother from cheapening herself in that way ever again.

It was a relief to Micah to see Aaron thaw where his mother was concerned, and none too soon either because she and Paddy were now making their way back into the living room, the older man carrying a tray laden with mugs of tea and a plateful of sandwiches. Just like the two of them, they'd obviously been talking, and seemingly making plans. Chastity was the one to hesitantly air them.

"We thought sarnies for lunch, steak and chips and a drink at the Wooly later... and that maybe you could stay over..."

"We have to get back. Micah's working tomorrow." He had no intention of staying and he'd made that clear to his mother earlier.

"On a Sunday? Can't you throw a sicky..."

"No, he can't!" Trust his mother to suggest something like that, she was showing herself up again.

Micah could understand Chastity's need to hold onto her son for as long as she could, and if Aaron wanted to stay on for a little while, then he would understand that too. But there was no way he could, he had responsibilities, he had to go home tonight, he hadn't even started writing his sermon yet, not that it would be the first time he'd had to make it up as he went along. "I'm sorry, I can't, as much as I'd like to. Sunday's probably my busiest day; St Mary's has a morning and an evening service..." Both Chas and Paddy were looking at him blankly, but he was used to getting such a reaction to his calling now, people could never quite take it in at first. "I'm the vicar there."

"Yeah, right," Chas snorted." Pull the other one, it's got bells on!"

"Chas!" Paddy warned, he wanted to shut his ex up before she had a chance to say something else she would regret. He knew Micah wasn't joking, that he really was a man of the cloth! He'd known there was something different about him, something he couldn't quite put his finger on, but strangely it all seemed to make perfect sense now.

/

His mother had tried to persuade him to stay, 'just for a few days' she kept saying, he knew Micah wouldn't have minded but he did, he didn't want all those miles separating them, and had made it plain they would be leaving together later that afternoon. It was getting to that time now and while his mum and Paddy were again busy in the kitchen, making yet another cup of tea, trying to delay the inevitable, Micah was steering him in the right direction once again.

"Isn't there anywhere else you want to go before we leave?"

"No." But there was one place he knew he should visit, and it was like it was calling to him, demanding some recognition.

"I think you should go, it will be your last chance for a while. I think you'll regret it if you don't. Go on, I'll wait here."

He'd slowly made his way to Jackson's grave, scared of how he'd feel on seeing it again, frightened there would be some overwhelming emotion, something he couldn't cope with. But on seeing it, on setting eyes on his name, he just felt a sadness, a sense of loss. The pain was not so intense now, not so destructive, it wasn't ripping into his heart anymore. He was glad he'd come...

"I don't believe it! Just when I thought you'd done us all a favour and disappeared for good, you turn up, like a bad penny, like the murdering scum you are."

Jerry! He didn't need this, not now!

TBC


	21. Chapter 21

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work

Runaway

Part 21

Micah had guessed that with Aaron out of the way, his mum and Paddy would take the opportunity to talk to him about things they perhaps wouldn't feel able to in his presence. He'd guessed right.

It had all been fairly light-hearted at first, Paddy telling him, amongst other such anecdotes, about the 'wild' Alsatian Aaron had begged him to keep, and how that had been the turning point in their relationship. The conversation had, as he'd expected, quickly taken on a more serious tone, Paddy thanking him for what he'd done for Aaron, letting him know just how worried they'd been about him. The older man had then hesitantly sounded him out, concerned that he might not be fully aware of everything Aaron had gone through. He was able to reassure him that he was, in the past week Aaron had told him everything about himself.

Chastity had said very little, she seemed to have lost her tongue since finding out what he did for a living, he'd put it down to her not being sure how to act around him. It seemed he'd got that badly wrong! When Paddy's mobile had rung, he'd taken the private call in the kitchen, leaving him and the brunette alone. Chas had then taken him aback with a coldly made statement.

"You and my Aaron. You're so different, it's not going to work!"

"It does work!" It did, and so very well, but before he had a chance to say anything more in defence of their relationship, she had tossed something else at him that caught him equally unaware.

"Me and Paddy, we're like chalk and cheese too, it worked for us but only for a little while, then I got bored, the spark, the connection just wasn't there."

Chastity certainly didn't mince her words, "You think Aaron will get bored of me?

"Yes... and hopefully long before you find he doesn't live up to your expectations."

"My expectations?" What did she mean by that? What was she saying? That one day he'd wake up and realise Aaron wasn't good enough for him? That rankled, and instantly put him on the defensive. He cared about Aaron, more than cared; his feelings for him were growing deeper each and every day. He knew that would never change and he didn't like her questioning his commitment and especially not the apparent reasons behind it. But then she was Aaron's mother, maybe that gave her the right? He told himself he had to be fair-minded here. "You love your son and I know you're concerned about him but..."

"You've only just met. He's still grieving for the man he loved..."

"That doesn't mean we can't have feelings for each other, that we can't know instinctively that we're right for each other..."

"He's not ready for another relationship."

"Don't you mean you're not ready for him to have another relationship, not one that takes him away from you?" He wasn't quite sure where that had come from, but the brown eyes had flashed angrily at his response and he knew he'd hit the nail firmly on the head.

"I know my son, and he's not over Jackson yet. You're just some rock to cling to in a storm, and when that storm passes..."

"Chas!"

Neither one of them had noticed Paddy walk back into the room, Micah didn't know how much the older man had overheard but it was obviously enough to anger him. He was relieved to see him, he didn't like where the conversation was going either. He might be a vicar but he was a mere mortal too, he had feelings, he could be cut to the quick just like everyone else, and sometimes it wasn't so easy to turn the other cheek. He was capable of snapping out something hurtful when wounded too; if Paddy hadn't made his presence known, he probably would have done just that at that moment. While he pondered on what best to say to avoid any further unpleasantness, Chas seemed determined to make the most of his silence.

"Well, it's true, we both know it is, Paddy. It's Father Ted here who's blind to the fact."

"That's enough." Paddy warned, wanting to make it clear he thought Chas was well out of line.

"Aaron isn't anything like you." As soon as the words had left his mouth, Micah was regretting them, he hadn't meant that the way it had sounded... or had he? Whether he had or not, Chas had flinched on hearing it, it had been taken as a slight and all three present in the room knew that.

He couldn't believe how badly things had deteriorated or how quickly. He didn't think he was entirely responsible for the upset, knew he wasn't, but he had played a small part in it and felt he should play peacemaker. "The last thing Aaron needs or wants is for us to be at odds with each other, after all we all want the same thing, we all want what's best for him..."

"And you, after knowing him all of five minutes know what that is. He needs his family around him..."

"I agree he needs his family, but I believe he needs me more, and I'm sorry if that's a hard pill to swallow, but it's true."

Paddy couldn't get his head around Chas' continued verbal assault on Micah, had she forgotten all he'd done for the lad? It was time he came to his defence, "Aaron wouldn't have come home today if it wasn't for Micah, we have him to thank..."

"He's just another of his good causes."

"What?" Micah exclaimed, just what the hell did she mean by that?

"Aaron said you work with the homeless, the runaways. You took him in, he's just the latest soul that needs saving."

He had to bite back on his retort, it wouldn't have helped any, would only have served to further inflame the situation. It seemed Chastity had taken a dislike to him and he wasn't sure there was much point in trying to reason with her either, not with the mood she was in. It might just be best for him to leave, beat a retreat; getting to his feet, he turned to look at Paddy, "I think it's best I go." He knew the other man would protest and he was ready to reassure him, only events were about to take another unpleasant turn...

The door crashed open, instantly claiming all their attention. A woman, a stranger to him at least, delivering some garbled message about Aaron, something about him being in a fight!

It had taken a second to register, but as soon as it did, he was making for the door.

TBC


	22. Chapter 22

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work

Runaway

Part 22

Micah knew Aaron had a temper, had been witness to him losing it, and on Aaron's own admission, he'd been free with his fists in the past. But, even knowing that, he couldn't believe that in the short space of time since leaving Paddy's, he'd managed to get into a fight! Just how was that possible?

The woman who had burst into Paddy's living room had breathlessly told them that she'd thought it best Paddy be aware of what was going on, that she wasn't sure if Paddy actually knew the lad was back. Upon hearing what she said, they had all run in the direction of the village cemetery.

Paddy and Chas had fired questions at her, and from what he could gather from the frantic exchange, it was Jackson's father who was the other person involved. He was beginning to see a reason behind the altercation, the cause.

An ugly and somewhat unexpected scene had met them. Aaron was on his knees being helped to his feet by a man wearing something he couldn't fail to notice, and that was a clerical collar. Two other men were trying to restrain an obviously out-of-control Jerry Walsh, he was struggling against them and shouting abuse in Aaron's direction.

Micah's only concern was Aaron and, whilst Paddy and the other men tried to calm down the antagonist, he hurried to Aaron's side, Chas right behind him. Blood was trickling from Aaron's nose and lip, he seemed dazed and was more than a little unsteady on his feet. The Reverend helping Aaron pointed towards a nearby bench and between them they steered him over to it, sitting him down. But he wouldn't stay down, he suddenly seemed to be aware of what was happening around him and was trying to get to his feet, shrugging off their helping hands and insisting he was alright.

"You're not alright." He and Chas insisted in unison, her voice all but drowning out his own. Where he was fairly calm, Chas was verging on hysterical. The other woman seemed well aware of that and was trying to reassure her, calm her down, but it only seemed to fire her emotions further, her attention suddenly turning to Jackson's dad, hurling some vitriol back at him. Couldn't she see she was just making things worse?

One of the other men had just suggested calling in the police and on hearing that Aaron had said, "No! Don't involve them."

Chas though had picked up the idea and run with it, saying, "Why not? He needs locking up, he would have happily seen you put behind bars!"

That comment had seen Jerry retaliate in kind, making it clear he thought prison was indeed where Aaron belonged.

There was so much anger in the air, so much hostility. A war of words was now raging back and forth and no end to it in sight. Micah knew he had to remove Aaron from the situation. "Come on." Catching hold of his boyfriend's arm, he gently but firmly led him back the way he'd just come, relieved to be leaving the continuing furore behind him, happy for now to leave it to someone else to sort out.

He would have liked to have got Aaron into the car and then driven him home, back to his place, to get him as far away from Emmerdale as was possible, and then make damn certain he never came back. Between what had happened with Jerry, and the grief Chas had just given him over their relationship, he was regretting encouraging Aaron to come back here... he was beginning to understand why Aaron had done a runner. But no, he couldn't think that way; he couldn't let a couple of incidents affect his view of the place Aaron called home.

For a little while, it had just been the two of them in Paddy's kitchen. After persuading Aaron to again sit down, he'd hurriedly grabbed a tea towel, wet it and then given it to him to help him stem the flow of blood. His face was a mess, bruised and bloody. Walsh's hadn't been!

He wanted to give Aaron time to collect himself. Aaron sat there, eyes closed, holding the cold compress to his injuries, and Micah sat opposite him, pondering on why someone of Walsh's age had got the better of a much younger and fitter man, one he knew could handle himself in a fight. He had an uneasy feeling about it.

When Aaron had told him about Jerry, he'd used the word hate to describe what Walsh felt towards him, had said he'd been prepared to lie about him in court, and that he'd had a pop at him on more than one occasion. There was certainly a hardness about the older man, a coldness, but he was no spring chicken, he wouldn't have thought he stood a chance against Aaron.

He was, of course, more than a little relieved that Aaron hadn't laid into him, hadn't done some serious damage, getting himself into trouble in the process. That said, he was finding it a little odd that Aaron seemed to have made no attempt to fight back, his knuckles were unblemished, there was no sign of him having landed a blow. What was worrying him the most was that, by the looks of him, he hadn't tried to defend himself in any way either. And if that was the case, he needed to know why.

"What happened?" He had to wait a little while for a response, but Aaron finally opened his eyes to look at him.

"He told me I shouldn't be there."

"You've got every right to be there!"

"Have I?"

"Of course you have... you loved Jackson..."

"So did he, but he didn't kill him, did he?"

"Neither did you."

"That depends on how you look at it, doesn't it? And when he looks at me, all he can see is his son's murderer!"

Was this Jerry really so blinkered? He'd sat through the trial, heard all the evidence just like the Judge and jury had. Could he really not see the truth? Micah had a hard time believing that none of what Jerry had witnessed had had any impact on his way of thinking. There was more going on here than met the eye, there had to be. "You know all that anger, all that bitterness he's feeling, I think he's aiming it at you because he can't express it to the person he really feels it towards... and that's himself." Now that did make sense.

"What?"

"They weren't close, were they, him and Jackson? There'd been a rift between them, Jerry to blame for the estrangement. Jackson didn't trust him like he trusted you and his mum, he didn't feel able to turn to his own father in a time of desperation, a time of need, he didn't think he would understand, not after the last time he'd shared something with him, something else he'd desperately needed him to understand. I think Jerry resents the fact Jackson could turn to you but not to him." He could be wrong but, what he thought it all boiled down to was that Jerry believed he'd failed Jackson, and on more than one occasion, and was struggling to live with that fact, directing his self-hatred elsewhere.

Aaron seemed to be thinking his words through, he would give him some time to do so and then push him some more about the fight, on what seemed to have been all one-sided.

He'd forgotten where they were though, the peace and quiet something he shouldn't have taken for granted because, just seconds later, it was shattered. Chas and Paddy breezed in through the door, filling the room with words and seething emotions. Chas informed them that once Aaron was out of the picture, Jerry had turned on Ashley, brandishing the fact he'd refused to bury his son like some kind of weapon.

He hadn't known about that. Aaron hadn't mentioned that to him, that there had been an issue with the Church regarding Jackson's death. Hadn't he thought it important or had he been wary of bringing it up, believing it might prove a bone of contention between them? It was something they were going to have to talk about, not now of course, it could wait. He would like to talk it through with the vicar concerned too, hear his reasons.

Aaron had simply shaken his head on hearing what had gone on, had sunk a little further into his chair, an air of despondency surrounding him.

Like Micah, Paddy and Chas wanted answers, but where Paddy took the softly-softly approach just like he had done, Chas was like a bull at a gate, taking the direct approach, and confirming his suspicions on doing so.

"Ashley said you let Jerry punch you, that you didn't try to stop him! What's that all about?"

He'd like an answer to that question too, but Aaron's only response was one of silence. Micah knew that, if it was just the two of them, Aaron would open up, but he wouldn't be so willing to in front of his mother and Paddy.

"Aaron! Come on, son, why'd you let that idiot hit you; you could have taken him easily."

His irritation with Chas just grew some more, didn't she ever think before she opened her mouth? That wasn't what Aaron needed to hear right now, she really didn't have a clue where her son was concerned.

"Could you give the two of us some time alone, please?" It had been a respectfully made request, one Paddy seemed happy to oblige. The older man had nodded his consent, but not Chas, she eyed him angrily, snarling her answer back at him, "No, you're not shutting us out..."

"I'm not trying to." He was just trying to make it easier for Aaron.

"I'm not going anywhere," Chas insisted before turning her attention back to her son, "Aaron, what happened between you and ..."

"It's time we went, we need to get back," Aaron declared, getting to his feet.

The unexpected nature of the young man's words and his sudden movement had taken them all by surprise, Chas the first to react, "No, not yet, Aaron, please..."

"I'm going to get the rest of my stuff."

All three of them had watched Aaron leave the room, hurriedly making his way upstairs. Micah made to follow him, but Chas moved to block his way, getting in his face, telling him something he already knew, "He's running again..."

"And no wonder! Do you honestly think you'll get him to talk, pressurising him like that? He can't handle it; it just makes him close down. Aaron and I might have only just met, but at least I know that much about him." He knew he shouldn't be point-scoring but he hadn't been able to stop himself, Chas's actions were really beginning to grate on him. Before she had a chance to retaliate, and he knew she would, he stepped around her, striding through the house and taking the stairs two at a time.

He'd expected to find Aaron hastily packing his things, wanting away from the situation as soon as was possible, but instead he found him sitting on the bed, head bowed, shoulders slumped. "Aaron?" Did he need some time alone up here? It had to hold a great many memories for him; he didn't want to trespass on them.

"I just didn't want any trouble."

No, Aaron was wanting to talk and, knowing that, Micah sat down on the bed beside him.

"I tried to reason with him but... it's like he sees red when he sees me. He said some horrible things, things that weren't true but, I knew he believed them. I tried to walk away but he came after me... he's Jackson's dad! How could I hit him back? Jackson... he'd expect better from me than that, I want to be better than that."

Micah could understand that, but it was what Aaron hadn't said that worried him. "But you didn't defend yourself in any way!" It seemed he hadn't tried to deflect a blow let alone dodge one. He knew why, but would Aaron admit to it? "You think you deserved a beating from him..."

"I did that to him, Micah! What I did, what I helped Jackson do... I caused him all that pain; I made him angry and bitter, I can understand him hating me... his need to hit back at me in some way."

"So you let him dish out some punishment. You still think you should be punished for what you did, don't you?"

"No... I don't know. Yeah, yeah alright, maybe I do. The things he said... they were things that were said in court, things that I know people still and always will believe, things that make me think it was the wrong thing to do, and when I think like that, when the doubt sets in, then I... "

"You forget how hard you fought Jackson on wanting to take his own life, and you forget just how hard you tried to make him see that his life was still worth living, that he could still be happy and fulfilled. And you forget the sacrifice you made that day... by letting him go... and then having to face the world without him."

"I didn't think it would be this hard."

"It doesn't have to be." It didn't, Aaron just needed to let go of the guilt that was lying so heavily on his shoulders, but getting him to do that... well, it was proving far from easy.

TBC


	23. Chapter 23

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 23

Micah hadn't got quite the response he'd wanted from Aaron.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore, Micah, not here."

"Alright." He could understand Aaron's reluctance to go any further into the matter right now, "I'm sorry; maybe coming back wasn't such a good idea, not yet anyway." Aaron had said he wasn't ready; he should have listened to him.

"No, you were right, about me coming back. I feel better for seeing Paddy and my mum. As for Jerry... well, what you said, it's all true, I know it is and I know I need to face it, deal with it... I really am screwed up, aren't I?" He had to be, why else would he let someone lay into him like that?

Clasping the younger man's hand, Micah squeezed it gently and, staring intently into the haunted blue eyes, said, "No, no you're not! You've just got a lot of hurt and guilt bottled up inside of you. One painful mixed-up mass of things you need to work through. A counsellor would help you do that, help you put everything into perspective, help you let go of it all."

"But, I can talk to you." He could, he could tell Micah anything, and it helped, it really did.

"Yes, you can and I want you to keep on doing so but, I think talking to a counsellor, someone who's trained in such things, would be beneficial too. I know of a good one, so promise me you will at least think about it."

"Ok, I'll see him." Micah looked surprised at his apparent snap decision, but it wasn't all that hasty a one, not really. Micah had mentioned it to him before and he had been giving it some thought. Now that he was thinking more clearly, now that he understood what had happened between him and Jerry... well, it scared him, it had to have scared Micah, too. His issues, his problems had come between him and Jackson; they were what had made their relationship the rollercoaster it was. There was even more stuff going on in his head now, and it had already rocked the boat for him and Micah, it had almost ended their relationship before it even had a chance to begin. He didn't want his demons coming between the two of them, and so he was prepared to do anything to stop the same stop-start, on-off, drama-filled ride happening all over again. "I know it's something I've got to do if you and me are ever going to be... well, it's something I have to do."

Micah knew this was a big step for Aaron, a major concession on his part, and one helped made because of the way he felt about him. As well as the decision coming as a big relief to him, well if he was honest, he'd felt out of his depth at times... he also found it reassuring; it was a measure of Aaron's commitment. Always at the back of his mind was the fear of Aaron taking off, of again losing someone else he cared deeply about. Wanting to acknowledge the development with something more than words, he leant in and, mindful of Aaron's split and swollen lips, gently kissed him, going on then to say, "I'll arrange it first thing in the morning." He'd pull a few strings, get the ball moving, get Aaron the help he needed.

Wanting to put an end to the matter for now, Aaron got to his feet, letting Micah know why he was suddenly in such a hurry to leave, "Word will have got round about what happened, about me being back, I want to leave before anyone else in the family shows up." He really couldn't stomach an earful from Cain, he wasn't sure he could look the hard man in the eye after what he'd let Jerry do, there was no way he would understand. His uncle Zak would give him a hard time for worrying them all, and as for the women well, he didn't need the fuss they'd make. He wasn't sure he could face Hazel either, not yet... maybe never. It would hurt her seeing him with another man and he didn't want that added bit of guilt.

He wasn't sorry he'd missed Rhona, she'd only have given him another earful for causing Paddy more heartache. According to the older man, she and Leo were at her mother's for the weekend, he'd made it sound like a visit but, for some reason, he thought there was more to it than that, that he was keeping something from him. He got the feeling there was a lot he and his mum weren't telling him. When he'd asked how things were here, how everyone was, they'd told him about Sarah, about her illness, but again he sensed there was more going on around them, and had put their apparent reluctance to tell him down to them not wanting to air the family's dirty laundry in front of Micah. Maybe it was best he didn't know, he didn't want anything else playing on his mind, that was selfish of him but he needed to sort himself out before he could be of any help to anyone else.

"Ok." Micah agreed, he didn't particularly want to hang around either, not the way things were between him and Chas. Thankfully Aaron hadn't picked up on the ill feeling between them. He did feel for Paddy though, he'd been caught in the firing line, and would be left to deal with the flack.

Between them they'd carried what was left of Aaron's stuff downstairs, Micah making sure it included all his college files and the certificates awarded him to date. This last week, he'd persuaded him to ring the local college and ask about enrolling on the mechanics course, to find out if it was possible for him to pick up where he'd left off here. Micah knew it was something Aaron enjoyed and was good at, something he'd put a lot of work and effort into, he couldn't give up on it, especially when he'd almost completed it. Aaron had been provisionally accepted, all he needed to do to get a place was provide the college with proof of his studies and find himself a work placement... the latter wouldn't be so easy to do.

Still, as he loaded Aaron's things into the boot of his car, Micah told himself things were starting to fall into place. And he was, for the first time in a long time, excited about the future, he had someone to share it with again. When Matthew died, he... well, like Aaron, he'd been lost for a while, he didn't have the burden Aaron was carrying but it had been a difficult time all the same, despite his belief system, it had been a very dark time for him. And for the longest time, he couldn't imagine himself with anyone else, didn't want to be with anyone else, but now he did. It was like the sun had come out and chased away the gloom that had been surrounding him... Listen to him! He was getting soppy... no, it was much more than that... he knew the signs... he was falling in love!

With everything now in the car, he eyed the front door, wondering if he should go back inside or not. Aaron was saying his goodbyes, he didn't want to get in the way but then he didn't want Chas pressurizing Aaron again. That was the deciding factor and he made for the door.

His heart sank as he entered the kitchen; it wasn't empty as he'd expected it to be. Chas was sitting at the table, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. He was surprised to see tears, Chas being the hard faced... now that wasn't fair and neither was it at all Christian of him for that matter. He was usually pretty good at comforting someone in distress, would normally jump right in and do everything he could to try and console them, but he was wary of this woman now. She'd made her dislike of him obvious, had put him on his guard, and after their last heated exchange, he wasn't sure she'd even want him talking to her...

"I'm just giving them a minute."

Chas had gestured to the living room, to where he knew Aaron and Paddy were, he was surprised at her sudden show of sensitivity, she'd been sadly lacking in that commodity so far... he was at it again, putting her down, that had to stop. She seemed to be making an effort, he told himself he had to do the same. Sitting opposite her at the table, he sought desperately for something to say, something that would hopefully reassure her in some way.

"He'll be back, Brenford isn't that far away and you could always come to visit us." He couldn't believe he'd just said that, that he'd invited the 'mother-in-law' from hell over! Something told him he'd just taken the conciliatory gesture a step too far."

"I haven't managed to turn you completely against me then?"

Chas' question was accompanied by a small smile, a disarming one, and he found himself smiling back, "No." Well he preached enough about forgiveness, how could he not give her another chance.

"I'm just scared for him, a bit over protective maybe, but he's been through so much, I don't think he could take another blow... he's not recovered from the last one yet."

"No, but he will," Micah insisted. "Chas, you don't have to worry about me, I'm not going to hurt him..."

"I just want him to be happy and I think he is with you... but I'm scared it won't last."

"It will." He didn't know how he could be so sure but he was, he knew he couldn't convince Chas though, not now anyway, but maybe a few months down the line she'd see their relationship for what it was.

"You were right, you know, he's not like me."

He would have liked to follow that line of conservation through, but the front door had just been thrown open, yet another woman now barging into the building, taking them both by surprise.

"Laurel said Aaron was home, that he'd had a run in with Jerry. Where is he, is he alright."

"That's none of your concern anymore, Hazel."

So this was Jackson's mother. She looked and sounded genuinely concerned about Aaron, but it was clear from the cold way Chas had just addressed and dismissed her that the two of them weren't on good terms.

"Of course it is. I didn't stop caring about him when Jackson died. I'd like to see him."

"Well, he doesn't want to see you!"

The older woman looked taken aback by the comment, Micah could see she was struggling with the concept. He knew it was more a case of Aaron not wanting to hurt her than not seeing her, and he'd been about to suggest he let Aaron know she was here when Chas again took aim at the other woman.

"This is Micah, Aaron's new boyfriend. Aaron's moved on and he doesn't want you reminding him of the past!"

Micah could only look at Chas in stunned disbelief, how cruel a thing was that to do? Realising Hazel was now making for the door, he called after her, "Wait." He couldn't let her leave with those words ringing in her ears.

Either she hadn't heard him or she was ignoring him because the door had shut behind her. He was soon following her outside, ignoring Chas's instructions to 'just let her go.'

He'd called her name again as he sprinted after her, this time she'd turned around, a forced smile on her pale face.

"It's alright, I understand."

Hazel was vigorously nodding her head, seemingly in an attempt to convince him of that fact. She was hurting but trying her utmost not to let it show. He admired this quiet show of dignity. "Aaron didn't want you to find out like that, the last thing he wants is to hurt you."

"He's a good lad. Tell him I'm happy for him, really."

"Hazel, I think he needs to hear that from you."

"Yes, well he knows where I am. I'd like to see him, if you could let him know that, if it's alright with you, that is?"

"Of course it is." As upset as she was, Hazel was considering him, his feelings in all this, he was liking her more and more, "I'll tell him." That had earned him another smile, a genuine one this time. He stood for a minute watching Hazel walk away, his annoyance with Chas building, just when he thought they were settling their differences, when he was starting to warm to her again, she up and does something spiteful like that. He could quite easily go back inside, all guns blazing and in her direction... but where would it get him? It would only cause more bad feeling, and he'd had enough of that today, and Aaron certainly didn't need it. No, he was going to have to...

"Micah?"

Aaron was standing in the doorway, staring anxiously after Hazel. He might need a little persuading into talking to her, but Micah was certain Aaron wouldn't regret doing so.

/

They'd finally left Emmerdale, a little later than planned. Aaron had no regrets about leaving the village behind him; in fact, it was a relief to do so.

It had been a long day, a tiring day, events seemed to have drained him of all energy, he didn't feel much like talking and with Micah having to concentrate on the sparsely lit country roads, a contented silence had fallen around them.

He was staring out into the darkness, aware of the miles passing but only for a little while, his mind was soon wandering, reliving the day, its highs, its lows...

He'd missed Paddy and his mum, it had been great seeing them, and it had helped ease his conscience on being able to put their minds at rest... well, to some degree anyway.

Paddy and Micah had got on well, they'd really hit it off, pity he couldn't say the same about his mum and Micah, he didn't know what, but something wasn't right between them. It didn't really surprise him, she wasn't known for her people skills, she'd certainly got off to a bad start... no he wasn't going there, he didn't want to think about her flirting with Micah! That was one image he'd like to block from his mind permanently.

She'd got all tearful when they'd left, Paddy wrapping a comforting arm around her as they drove away. He knew Paddy would keep an eye on her... Paddy! His thoughts settled on the money tucked safely in his pocket. The older man had pressed a wad of notes into his hand, insisting he take it. Despite all his protests, Paddy wouldn't take it back, had asked him to please let him do that much for him at least. He'd relented on hearing that heartfelt plea, hugged him, saying thanks and goodbye in the one gesture. He already knew what he'd spend Paddy's hard-earned cash on: he was going to buy himself some independence.

He'd been annoyed at his mum for her shabby treatment of Hazel, but he hadn't wanted to part on bad terms, so he'd kept his thoughts on the matter to himself, returned the hug she'd given him.

Before getting in the car, he'd looked down the hill, had taken a long look around the village, knowing it would be a while before he saw it again. His thoughts inevitably strayed to Hazel, to the conversation they'd had earlier at Dale Head. It hadn't been easy, but then not nearly as hard as he thought it would be. Micah said it wouldn't be.

She'd cried on seeing him, he knew then he'd done the right thing by calling to see her. He'd apologised for his mother, someone had to because she wasn't likely to make the effort herself. Hazel had sat him down then, left him alone while she made them a cup of tea, giving them both a little time to collect themselves. He'd forgotten just how understanding she could be. When she'd eventually sat down beside him, she'd said something he wasn't expecting, and that was how much she liked Micah, that she'd taken an instant shine to him. He knew she meant it and so felt able to tell her about him, not in any great detail, just enough to satisfy her curiosity, if she wanted to know more, all she had to do was ask, he knew she wouldn't though. Thankfully, she hadn't asked about Jerry, in fact she'd kept the conversation on safe topics, it was like she hadn't wanted to scare him away.

He hadn't stayed long, but long enough. The place held few good memories for him; he'd breathed a sigh of relief on leaving, on knowing he wouldn't be seeing Hazel again for a while. As much as he liked her, cared about her, she, like her home, proved too painful a reminder of Jackson, of how he'd lost him. He could live with seeing her once in a while, but not each and every day.

He'd walked back up the hill, memories of Jackson all around him, he could see him everywhere, walking, laughing, downing a pint... enjoying life. If he could just keep those memories in his head, he knew he would be alright, but he couldn't. They were always elbowed out of the way by memories of him lying bleeding in his van, lying unconscious in a hospital bed, trundling along in his wheelchair, him crying... begging... being taken away in that body bag... he'd done that to him!

And there it was, proof of just how easy it was for him to slip back into that mind frame, into guilt-tripping.

Like a drug, it distorted the mind, robbed you of your senses, slowly destroyed you... or would if you let it! He was suddenly reminded of Holly Barton, of how she'd succumbed to heroin, and the devastating effect it had had on her and her family. She'd been in denial, fought those trying to help her, caused her family so much worry and pain. Ok, so it wasn't the same thing, but it ran along the same lines, didn't it? He couldn't let go of what was bringing him down either, he was in need of help to rid himself of what was slowly poisoning him, he couldn't move on with his life until he'd flushed it from his system. Holly's life was back on track, his would be too if... no, not if, but when... he was going to beat this thing.

TBC


	24. Chapter 24

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work

Runaway

Part 24

Aaron was staring incredulously over at the traffic lights; he couldn't believe it had changed to red again so quickly, he was getting nowhere fast. As he inched his way along with the rest of the Friday afternoon traffic, his thoughts strayed back over what had proven to be a fairly busy and eventful week, starting off with Sunday. It had taken him nearly all day to sort his college stuff out. His files had needed tidying up, not to mention updating, he'd even redone some of the work, the bits he didn't think were up to scratch, stuff he knew he hadn't put enough effort into. If he was ever to make something of himself, it was important he get back into college, finish the present course at least, and maybe then he could enrol on another, an advanced one, after all, the more qualified he was, the better.

He hadn't realised how lucky he'd been to have a work placement right on his doorstep, well, at the other end of the village. He'd taken his job at Debbie's garage for granted. He wasn't going to land one around here so easily, hopefully the college would accept him just on his merits to date, give him some time to find a suitable job. That's where the money Paddy had given him would come in handy, he could get himself a cheap car; should there be a job a little further afield, he'd have no problem getting to it.

The paperwork had kept him occupied while Micah had spent his time between church and home visits. They'd had the evening together though, had spent it curled up on the sofa, supposedly watching TV, but there'd been very little of that done, a game of tonsil hockey taking precedence.

Monday morning had seen Micah drop him off at the college for his enrolment interview. Armed with his load of bumph and some words of encouragement from Micah, he'd gone in search of the powers that be.

He had been worried about the interview, knew he had to sell himself and he'd never been any good at doing that. The fact his face bore the telltale signs of violence hadn't helped his confidence either. He wasn't planning on mentioning it unless they did, and if they did, he was ready to say it was due to an unprovoked assault. Micah had suggested he say that, and it was a simple enough statement but, could he convince them of something he was struggling to believe himself? In the end, they hadn't asked, had perhaps been distracted by something else. One of the two interviewers had noticed his address, and had asked him if his father was the Vicar of Brenford. His answer, "No, my boyfriend is." had tripped surprisingly easily off his lips, and he'd heard something in his voice, something he quickly realised was pride.

He'd left the office not really knowing what sort of an impression he'd made, and wasn't particularly hopeful about their decision, but by three o'clock, he'd received a phone call telling him his place was confirmed. He was pleased and relieved, but it was Micah who'd decided it was something to celebrate, and had insisted they go to the pub that night for a pint.

Tuesday had been spent looking for a car. Luck had been on his side, a private sale had proved a bargain, one he'd snapped up. The car needed some work doing on it but nothing much, certainly nothing he couldn't do himself. He was still covered by the Dingle Automotive insurance and with the car still having a few months' tax and MOT, he was ready for the road. He'd phoned Paddy that evening, had spent a good half hour telling him his news. Rhona had been conspicuously absent again, he knew something was wrong between her and Paddy and this time had asked him outright what was going on. He'd half expected it to be because of him. He'd been the cause of umpteen arguments between them before he left, of one almighty one the day he'd taken off, and it was one of the reasons he had done a runner. Maybe him doing a disappearing act had only made things worse. With some coaxing, Paddy had admitted the relationship had hit a rocky patch, but it seemed it was all to do with the older man's insecurities, nothing whatsoever to do with him. It had come as a bit of a relief, and he'd realised then that he wasn't responsible for everything that went wrong around him, that he was maybe a little too eager to take the blame for too many things.

Wednesday, his first morning at college, he'd been nervous, but everyone had been friendly, had made him feel welcome, and he'd enjoyed it, and so was looking forward to Fridays afternoon session. As for Wednesday afternoon... well, it hadn't been at all enjoyable, he'd hated every minute of the hour he'd spent with the counsellor.

When he'd agreed to counselling, he hadn't expected Micah to arrange it so quickly, he thought it would take weeks to organise, there seemed to be a waiting list for just about everything else on the NHS. He thought he'd have some time to prepare himself, but no. It was suddenly happening and he wasn't ready for it, but he knew he never would be. It was something he just had to do, end of. He'd actually felt better on leaving the counsellor's office, well, better than he had on walking in, simply because he knew he'd taken a positive step, as hard as it had been. And it had been hard.

He'd been on the defensive at first, nowt new there! But the counsellor had cut through his line in crap, taken what he supposed was a firm line, a no nonsense approach, and he'd needed that, had responded to that. He'd slowly opened up, and so had started on what was going to be a long and difficult journey. Another session had been arranged for Friday morning, but it would just be once a week from then on. Naively, he'd asked Alan, the counsellor, how long it would take; he couldn't answer him, of course, that was something only time would tell.

Thursday, he'd been introduced to what Micah had, for some reason known only to himself, christened Mable. He'd spent all day tinkering with it. It, or she, as Micah referred to it, was an old... ancient camper van that someone had donated to his homeless cause a year or so back. Jack, the volunteer in charge of it, had rung to tell Micah it was again playing up. On overhearing the conversation, he had jumped at the chance to be useful, to help out in some way, and had told Micah he'd be happy to take a look at it.

On first seeing it, Aaron was convinced the only thing keeping Mable going was prayer. During the course of the day, he'd managed to fix its various ailments, he knew it was living on borrowed time though, something he'd hated having to tell Micah. His boyfriend hadn't taken the news well, it had worried him. It was all they had to carry the supplies they needed, the food, the clothes, the blankets. He'd promised Micah he'd keep it going for as long as he could, hopefully until they would get their hands on something else equally as suitable for the job.

Mable had drawn quite a bit of attention, passersby stopping to talk to him about the motoring relic. At least he'd thought it was Mable they were interested in at the time, now he was wondering if it wasn't perhaps him they were wanting to get to know. One thing he did know for sure was that Milly had been keeping her eye on him, he'd been well aware of the curtains twitching across the road, and had felt her beady eyes boring into him!

Today, Friday, seemed to have come quickly, the morning way too quickly for his liking. He again found himself reliving his darkest times, Alan listening intently, then talking him through it all again. He'd felt drained following the session, but again, a little better for it; that's what he'd told Micah too, he'd rung him before going on to college.

The afternoon had flown by, pity he couldn't say the same for his journey home. Home! That's how he saw the church house now. It hadn't taken long, had it? It had nothing to do with the building though, it was all to do with Micah, with the way he made him feel, safe, wanted, cared for and... the traffic lights had finally turned to green, instantly snapping him out of his reverie.

Just five minutes later, he had turned onto a quieter road, one that would lead him to the vicarage's front door. The week almost over, the weekend was just hours away and he was looking forward to it, to spending the best part of it with Micah.

TBC


	25. Chapter 25

Part 25

God the Matchmaker

By Guest Writer Sylvain

Aaron was in the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes after their Saturday evening meal. He had prepared chicken baked in the oven and some fresh vegetables, along with mashed potatoes. Nothing fancy, but he made the effort of taking care of everything himself, and not burning it! Micah's eating habits were pretty simple, much like the clothes he wore, but this was a good meal and he thanked Aaron for it. He had made a point of doing so. He knew Aaron wanted badly to share the household responsibilities, contribute as much as he could. Not working yet made that difficult, but at least he could help in this manner.

Micah was at his computer, working on his sermon for Sunday services. The reading for this Sunday was from the book of Isaiah. One verse read:

"… _forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, God is doing a new thing_." He was thinking, trying to figure out how to put that into a message of hope, a message that his congregation would take away and be able to apply in daily life.

He hadn't noticed Aaron standing in the doorway, looking at him, a smile on his face.

"What are you doing?" Aaron asked.

"Preparing my sermon for tomorrow," Micah said as he lifted his head to look at him. He wasn't sure why, but he could see some kind of curiosity in Aaron's eyes.

"What are you going to tell them? That God is good and he knows everything? That he runs the whole world?" There was no sarcasm in his tone, just genuine curiosity given he had in front of him a vicar who would give him an honest answer.

"Well, not exactly," Micah said, thinking carefully about his words. He knew that if he positioned this properly, he might get Aaron to talk a bit about what he thought, how he felt about this whole religion thing, so far they hadn't discussed it or even touched on it. He knew Aaron was respectful of his work and of his commitment, his job, as he called it, but there was certainly more to it. What Aaron had gone through with Jackson was sure to have had an impact on his spiritual ideas, or at least helped him develop some. Not that he would call them like that, but still. No one helps his boyfriend die without doing some serious thinking about life, death, maybe the afterlife. He knew there was more to this young man standing there; after all, he had fought Jackson in the hope of convincing him that life would have been worth living with him.

"The reading for tomorrow has a part that says we should forget the past and not dwell on it, and that God is doing a new thing. I'm not sure what this new thing is, quite honestly, but I am trying to figure it out."

Aaron looked at him, "Forget the past and not dwell on it? Really?" His mood suddenly changed, darkened a bit. "The past, for me, is Jackson and what happened in our life. How can I forget that? I can't help but dwell on it. I mean, you know what happened…" His words came out with sadness. He still felt emotional when thinking about the last moments with Jackson. He could still see the pleading in Jackson's eyes, the tears, the despair, the hope that he wouldn't stop bringing the poisonous drink to his lips so he could at last help him leave his useless body. No, he would never forget those last moments.

"Yes, I know, Aaron, but the Scriptures were written more than two thousand years ago. They were meant to be messages addressed to the people of that time. Today, we have to adapt these messages and make them relevant to our reality." Micah was hoping his words would reach Aaron, would reach into his heart. "You cannot forget about Jackson, the same way I cannot forget about Matthew."

"OK, but what does your God think of what I did? Am I going to hell? I mean, I escaped prison, somehow, but I know my hell started the moment Jackson slipped away in my arms, the moment life left his body, closed his… beautiful brown eyes that…" Aaron had to catch his breath, unable to continue. Micah got up and came to him, took him in his arms, held him tightly, letting him shed some tears.

After a while, he stepped back a bit and, taking his hand, he led him to the sofa where they both sat. "My God, as you put it," Micah said with a comforting tone and a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "would have understood what you did, your reasons. What you did for Jackson was unique, special, and incredibly brave. Jackson wanted to die, you helped him and I know you didn't want to." Taking a firmer tone, he continued, "But you did not take his life, do you understand that?" He was looking him straight in the eyes, very serious and also very concerned. He was sure that Aaron knew the difference between taking someone's life willfully and helping someone die, especially in this case where Jackson couldn't do it himself.

Aaron took a steadying breath, "Yes, I do, but it's still painful."

"I'm sure it is, Aaron, but you can't keep on blaming yourself. You have to remember the good times you had with Jackson, how much you loved him and how much he loved you, and try to find some strength in that. Being with him made you happy, I'm sure the memories must still have some positive effect on you!" Micah was trying his best to lift his spirit a little.

Still seeing sadness in his eyes, he decided to move the conversation on. "When I was reading the Scriptures earlier, it said something about God doing a new thing. I think I just figured out a meaning for those words. I seriously think that God is doing a new thing by bringing you and me together."

Aaron looked at him, unsure what to make of that. He had a lot of respect for Micah and he was willing to listen, but God and his new thing, all of that was a bit of a stretch!

"You really think that God had something to do with the two of us? That he had something to do with your car breaking down? That he made me walk by you then and help you?"

Micah looked at him, a bit surprised by his questions, but incredibly happy he asked them because he could give him the answer he wanted to give him, "Yes, I think he did. Faith is very… difficult to explain. Faith is believing, and I certainly believe some things happen for a reason, and in my mind, and in my heart, God played matchmaker."

Aaron chuckled when he said that. "God the matchmaker? I don't think your congregation would take you seriously with that sort of stuff. What would Milly think?"

"Oh, you never know. Some of these folks are wiser than we think. Their degree of faith is not to be measured by me, but only by God. The rest of it is up to them. Their life could help make them firm believers, the same way it could turn them off. What goes on in someone's heart remains pretty much a mystery."

Aaron was trying to make sense of what Micah had said. "So, by not dwelling on the past and making a new thing, as you say, does that mean God… forgives me?" In his mind, right now, those words meant it was OK to move on. He wasn't sure how to say this. He was way out of his depth talking about religion, even more with a vicar, and one who just happened to be his fit new boyfriend, so he was going at it carefully. He didn't really know if he had faith, or even knew what faith was, but he certainly believed in Jackson, in his person, in his heart, the same way he was starting to believe in Micah.

"In my opinion, yes, definitely, if there was ever something to forgive."

Somehow, that had made Aaron feel better. He still thought of Jackson, how could he not, but it was not bringing the same old pain. It was easier now, it was getting better, he could see how he could move on more easily. Micah turned out to be quite a man and he found in him an amazing source of support and understanding. After all, he too had lost the love of his life.

Micah had also arranged to have Aaron see a counsellor, to help him get rid of some demons, help him take the burden of guilt off his shoulders. He wanted Aaron to better understand what he did and be able to see it from a different perspective. The sessions had started a few days after coming back from Emmerdale and they were already helping him, Micah could see it just by the way this conversation was going. They were difficult, though, Aaron found it so hard to relive everything, but he needed to do it, for himself, for Micah, for them.

"And making a new thing… you think that means it's OK for us to become… a new thing? To become a couple?" Aaron hesitated while saying that. He so wanted to be with Micah, he saw in him someone who understood him, who saw the sensitive lad under the scowling face! Well, he didn't scowl as much lately, but still. He was also becoming very close to Micah… truth is, he was falling really badly for him! Simple as that.

Right now, Aaron was realising something important. The night of the accident, by the road, he had said that he didn't know how to feel after Jackson told him he loved him. He didn't have anything to compare it with, he knew it felt good, but he didn't know what to do with the feeling, how to handle it. No one had truly loved him until then and it scared him. Well, he was now richer for knowing Jackson's love and he knew in his heart that Micah was beginning to love him. The feeling didn't scare him, quite the contrary, it made him happier, more hopeful, even more confident. Well, wasn't he the one who said quite proudly to the college interviewer that it was "his boyfriend" who was the vicar of Brenford? Aaron was now feeling love for Micah and he wanted that more than anything.

After a brief silence, he added, "We seem to be two broken hearts that met along the road… we both need to be fixed. Why not work at it together?"

Micah really liked that image. He smiled at him. He took Aaron's hands and lifted them so that he could put them on either side of his face. He liked the warmth of his palms against his cheeks. "If you can help fix my broken heart, I'll definitely work hard to help fix yours."

As he was holding Micah's face, Aaron moved in for a tender kiss. He had to be careful, he still felt some soreness after the unexpected encounter with Jerry. Then his hands slipped back and his fingers weaved their way into Micah's long, blond hair, and he held him while their kiss became quite passionate. After a little while, Aaron reluctantly pulled back, slowly, while looking into his boyfriend's eyes.

"Well, Reverend James, I believe you have some work to do," Aaron said. "You better go and do it before this turns into something else and you end up again having to wing it in front of your congregation."

"Well," Micah grinned, "aren't you the slave-driver!"

TBC


	26. Chapter 26

**Wish she had known**

By Valere001

Aaron just walked in through the back door, he'd been cleaning up the shed. It was something he could do and knew Micah would appreciate. There were all kinds of odds and ends there, useless stuff mostly, left by the previous vicar. All of that would be for the bin men to collect in a few days. Aaron was still trying to do his part since he hadn't found a job yet, but he was always looking, hoping for something that would work out. He was also spending time at the college, continuing with his courses, it was important. In the meantime, he made sure he contributed to the household; he hated the idea of the "kept man", really hated it.

Micah had finished off a phone call as Aaron was coming in. He turned to face him and stopped, looking at him with a big grin on his face. "You look very sexy in those coveralls, Mr. Livesy!"

"Oh, do I, Reverend?" Aaron replied playfully. "Well, you'll just have to resist those urges of yours a bit, 'cause you're not touching me with these dirty clothes on. I've tidied up the shed and brought in some logs, and now I'm off to get changed."

"Thanks, we needed the wood. As for that shed, I haven't been in since I moved here. I am really glad you were able to sort things out in there. Now, about my urges," he said with a mischievous smile, "if I can't touch you, can I at least get a kiss from you? I promise I'll keep my hands to myself, well, mostly..."

"I suppose I can allow that," Aaron teased. Their little exchange gave him an idea: right there, in front of Micah, he decided to unfasten the dirty overalls and let them fall at his feet. He stood there, wearing a t-shirt and his boxers, and a cheeky smile on his face! "There, that way you won't get dirty, or will you?" Micah admired the view before closing in on him. He took his face in his hands, sliding them slowly down along his jawline, running a finger under his chin. He lifted his face and brushed his lips against Aaron's, delicately bit his lower lip, pulling it out slightly, then ran his tongue over the outer edge of his lips to wet them in preparation for a kiss that would take Aaron's breath away. As he started kissing him, Aaron put his hand behind Micah's neck and pulled him close. Their tongues started darting, duelling, trying to invade the other's mouth. Micah's hands then slowly moved down along Aaron's muscular back, feeling his warm body.

Their kiss was passionate, full emotions and feelings. After a moment, they ended their kiss and just stood there, looking intently into each other's eyes. At that very moment, Aaron felt an immense sense of calm and happiness. He pulled Micah into a tight embrace, wrapping him with his strong arms. His head resting on Micah's shoulder, he sighed, thinking to himself how comfortable he was with this wonderful man, how good he was for him in so many ways. He felt he was finally coming out of the dark hole he'd been in for so long.

"Thank you!", he said, almost whispering.

"What for?" Micah asked.

"For everything."

His answer said a lot to Micah. He had noticed how Aaron's behaviour had changed for the better after the difficult return to Emmerdale. The progress had definitely been slow, but he was improving, he was changing a lot. Aaron was much friendlier with strangers, he was more relaxed at home, not that he wasn't before, but now it was more like they were really starting to be a couple and behave like one. Aaron was a bit more outgoing and more expressive, which Micah really enjoyed. The rough and hard image was changing, revealing the sensitive side of his boyfriend, and Micah really like that side of him.

Aaron released his embrace and stood back a bit. "You're welcome," Micah said, looking into Aaron's deep blue eyes, not wanting to say more for now.

Stepping out of the overalls and walking away to take them to the washer, he said, "You were on the phone when I came in, another parishioner worried about what's happening at the vicarage? We should start a blog to keep everyone up to date!"

"A blog? I don't think so. Besides, Milly doesn't have a computer and she'd feel left out if she ever heard about the blog," Micah said with a chuckle. "No, it was a good friend of mine, Steven. We studied together at a seminary in London. Haven't seen him in ages although we email a bit. He's in the area for appointments and wanted to stop by for a chat. He told me his mother had passed away not long ago. Maybe he wants to talk about that. He said he'd be around early this afternoon."

"And he knows you're gay, right?"

"Oh yeah, he does, and so is he. We went out to bars together when we were in London and had a good time. It never went beyond that. We were good friends and remained good friends. He actually has a boyfriend, someone he met through friends of his. They've been together for about five years now. I'm really happy for him. His boyfriend seems to be a really nice, sound bloke. Works in the insurance business, if I remember correctly."

Aaron was looking forward to meeting this friend of Micah's. Judging from the person Micah was, he figured he'd have to be an equally nice and outgoing guy.

/

It was about 1:30 p.m. when there was a knock at the door. Micah was again busy with a call, so Aaron went to answer the door. It was Steven. Aaron was in for a pleasant surprise! There stood a very handsome man about his height, slim, dark, short hair, piercing green eyes, and a smile that would just melt away the anger in any person who would come face to face with it!

"You must be Aaron," Steven said, extending his hand. "I'm Steven. Micah told me a lot about you," he said, looking at him like he knew way more than Aaron would want him to know.

"Nice to meet you, Steven," Aaron said a little shyly, shaking his hand. "Come in, we've been expecting you."

Aaron showed him to the living room and offered him something to drink, saying Micah would be finished soon with his phone call. He was careful, trying to keep his eyes off this gorgeous vicar, making sure he wouldn't embarrass himself, or Micah for that matter. 'What is it with these young vicars?, he thought. Why don't they all look like Ashley, it would be so much easier!'

By the time he came back with the mugs of tea, Micah was in the living room and he and Steven were already chatting away, happy to see each other after such a long time. He put their mugs on the table and was about to leave the room, thinking he should leave the two friends to talk in private.

"Aaron," Steven said, "you don't have to go, please, stay. I'd like to have a chance to know you a bit more, see if all that Micah told me is true." He was teasing a bit when he said that and Aaron looked at Micah questioningly, eyebrows raised.

"Oh, don't worry," Micah said, "I didn't tell him anything I wouldn't have told Paddy or your mother, well, except for the bit about you being really hot!"

Aaron turned two shades of red. But he knew Micah was teasing and he gave him a knowing smile. "And don't you forget it," he said, looking straight into his boyfriend's eyes.

Steven looked at the two of them, "I am glad you two found each other, I can feel good chemistry." He remembered how devastated Micah had been following Matthew's death. The illness had taken its toll on Micah, and when Matthew died, Micah was inconsolable. He thought that with his training in seminary, having learned how to help grieving people, he'd be able to help himself, see himself through the pain of losing the love of his life. It hadn't worked that way. Micah became depressed, gave in to drinking too much, for a while he was having a hard time even doing his work, but he eventually recovered. Steven had met with him a few times to help him sort out his feelings, talk about his loss and how it affected him. Micah had told him he wasn't sure he'd ever find someone again, someone he could open his heart to, someone to share in the amazing joy of love, someone he could trust as much. He hadn't said never, but he was not looking. Then he met Aaron. From the occasional emails Micah had sent Steven, Aaron seemed to be someone quite special, someone who could actually change him, help him love again, share again in life and its miracles. It seems the young man was definitely good for Micah.

Micah acknowledged the comment. "There is, but you didn't come here to talk about our chemistry, did you?" Micah knew that Steven was buying time and would need a little coaxing. He wanted, needed really, to talk about his mother but it seemed he was trying to avoid it. Since he came almost for this reason, Micah was not going to let him off the hook. Steven had been such an amazing support for him when he lost Matthew, he wanted to make sure he could help his friend deal with whatever was on his mind.

"No, of course not." That Micah, always the perceptive type, Steven thought. He wouldn't let him leave now without making sure he told them what was on his mind. Micah had always been someone he could trust, they talked endlessly in seminary about everything. There was always an understanding side to him, he could make people express the most difficult emotions and make them feel good afterwards, almost as if it was therapy. Steven knew it would be good to talk to him, he just needed to get going.

"You remember I told you my Mum died a few weeks ago. She'd been ill for a while. Mark and I were not there at the time. My sisters were there with her and they kept me informed up to the time of her death."

Over the years, Steven had grown a little distant from his Mum, not that there was anything really wrong between them, but it just happened. Distance, less contacts, less phone calls, some awkwardness at times. Steven and his Mum didn't see eye to eye on certain things, and at times she seemed more pious than the vicar himself! And Steven had a hard time with that. She was one to take faith to the extremes and Steven didn't buy that. They had exchanged a few letters on the topic and they agreed to disagree. Steven's faith was a practical one, it was faith for day-to-day life, not the one you expressed in ways that made other people uncomfortable, as if there was something wrong with them because they didn't show the same degree of faith.

"Mark?" Aaron asked.

"He's my boyfriend," replied Steven. "He's such a great guy, I don't know what I would do without him in my life." He had been there all along for Steven, helping him cope with the prospect of his mother dying. Mark had been through that himself already and he knew somehow that it would be really hard for Steven.

"The thing is, I felt great sadness knowing she was dead, after all, she was my mother. At the same time, I felt regret. Let me explain. A few years ago, she and I had a conversation that was not about me but, in a way, it was about me. I had told her that I believed my relationship with Mark was as meaningful and important as my brothers and sisters' marriages. With a few divorces already having taken place, they were not exactly shining examples, but you know what I mean. And she knew what I meant."

Micah was listening. Noticing a pause, he said, "And what did she say to that?"

"Absolutely nothing. I was crushed. I knew she understood what I said, but she was so blinded by her religious beliefs that were from another generation that she couldn't get herself to say anything. She'd met Mark several times, she seemed to like him and had always been pleasant to him, but she couldn't bring herself to see us as a couple."

Aaron was listening intently. This was all new to him, seeing someone so open and comfortable after many years with a boyfriend and still seeking his mother's acceptance. This was an eye-opener.

He wasn't sure if he should ask questions. Then again, they wanted him to stay so he figured he might as well contribute to the conversation. After all, he was truly interested by what Steven was saying.

"And that was important to you?" Aaron asked.

"Well, not so much the couple part per se. You see, I never actually told her that I was gay, but from different hints and from the fact I never had girlfriends, and with Mark having been in my life for several years, I knew she would have to know there was something. However, there was no way she was ever going to openly discuss that with me."

Steven's mother just wouldn't have talked about these things but she knew. She had read about them and had seen programs on the television, but the words would never pass her lips. She wouldn't have rejected her son for being gay, far from that. For that matter, she would have had to turn her back on her own brother, and she wasn't about to do that. No, she was just not going to talk about that subject.

"Then why are you still thinking about this, if you knew she was not going to talk about it, knew that it would always remain such a delicate subject?" Aaron asked in a soft voice.

"I don't know, really. I guess I always wanted her to know about us, to see us the same way she saw my brothers and sisters. I didn't want her to look at me differently. But I was different, being the last one in a family of nine. They say there is always something about the last one. I was special alright!" Steven said with a chuckle.

"Were you just hoping she'd see you as a regular couple? Micah added. Were you looking for acceptance? Was it just that? Why was it so important in your eyes?"

Steven stopped talking for a moment. He was gathering his thoughts, looking at Micah then at Aaron. Emotions were still threatening to bring up some tears but he didn't want to cry in front of Micah, especially not in front of Aaron, who he barely knew.

His hands were tightly clasped together, he was fighting the tears. Staring down at his hands, he took a steadying breath and continued, "I guess the couple part was one thing, but now, what troubles me is that I have this huge regret."

"What do you mean?" Aaron asked.

With a shaky voice, Steven continued, "That I never… that I never really had the opportunity to tell her I was happy, that I had found true happiness with this man. She didn't have to worry about me, my soul was in no danger either. I wanted her to know her son was a happy man. Simple as that. I know how important that would have been for her to hear that."

Tears were falling from his eyes as he said that. His feelings were a mixture of sadness at realising the meaning of what he had said, and relief at having been able to express them to two people who understood him.

Micah was closer to Steven, so he reached out and put his hands on his clasped hands, as a sign of support and understanding. Aaron was sitting in the other chair and, seeing what was happening in front of him, he wasn't sure what to do. A situation like this one was so new to him. He thought that if it had been him, he would probably have been grateful for a show of support. 'Well, it can't hurt, can it?' he thought. He slowly got to his feet and came to sit on the other side of Steven, putting one hand on his shoulder and the other on his arm. Steven was touched by his gesture and Micah gave Aaron a look that said 'thank you'. He was so very proud of him. This was the new Aaron, the one who was starting to show positive emotions towards people other than those in his close circle.

After a moment, Micah felt he had to help close this chapter for Steven. "From what you said about your Mum, I would say she knew that, even if she never talked to you about it, don't you think? And from where she sits today, I'm pretty sure she sees it and knows it. And I would even say that she is happy for you, that she is proud. After all, you're her baby, right?"

"Oh god, I hated it when she said that," Steven responded, a bit of a smile starting to show after the tears from earlier. "I suppose you're right, she certainly knows now and yeah, she might even be proud of me. I'll take your word for it," he said while looking at Micah. He turned to Aaron, "Thanks, Aaron. I feel much better now. I never thought I'd be putting you through my sad story and my easy tears."

Aaron chuckled on hearing that. "You'd be surprised at how good I am in that department, too. There's no shame in crying when you're in a safe place, like here. Helps a lot, I reckon."

Steven looked at him and nodded his agreement. He turned to Micah, "Not only he is fit, he's also smart. You better make sure you don't let this one get away!"

The three men laughed at that, the atmosphere was getting lighter. Aaron got up and collected the mugs to take them to the kitchen, thinking now might be a good time to leave the two friends on their own.

While in the kitchen, he leaned against the sink and thought about what Steven had said, how he wanted to tell his Mum he had found true happiness. He was going to have to keep that in mind, because telling his own Mum might help get her off his case. Maybe she'd finally understand that their relationship might be young, but there was no reason why it couldn't be strong and long-lasting. It might ease her fears that no one would ever be able to make him happy again, look after him properly, be good enough for her son. Maybe she'd find it in her to finally show some respect to Micah. She hadn't exactly been the star of diplomacy when she met him a few weeks ago.

But it was more than that. Maybe she could see then that he was moving on. She had been worried that, in his heart, there would never be anyone to replace Jackson, but this wasn't about replacing. It was about loving again, opening up to someone new and living again the happy life he deserved. It was about a new beginning.

_End_


	27. Chapter 27

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 27

Some days, the vicarage phone never seemed to stop ringing, just like today. Micah had an answer phone for when he wasn't there, but had encouraged Aaron to take the calls if he was home, telling him all he had to do was to take a message.

It had sounded straightforward enough, there were a notepad and pen right next to the phone so he'd asked himself, 'how hard could it be?' He'd found that out the very first time he'd answered the phone. A Mrs. Collins had been on the other end of the line, obviously distressed and wanting to arrange her husband's funeral.

He'd instantly felt out of his depth. Yes, he could understand her grief, but his line in sympathy and understanding needed a lot of work, but he'd tried, hoped he'd said the right thing. He had at least got one thing right, he'd taken her name and phone number, jotted them down and had promised her that the vicar would phone her back. He'd then breathed a huge sigh of relief on ending the call.

He'd taken all manner of calls in the time since, and had found, just like he'd first suspected, that it wasn't just a matter of taking a message, that most times it ended up in a conversation, sometimes a lengthy one, and one he usually felt uncomfortable in. He had to watch his P's and Q's, his manners, he was always wary of somehow reflecting badly on Micah.

It was times like that when it all seemed so surreal, when he really struggled with the concept of him being in a relationship with a vicar. Everyone who knew him would have the exact same problem, after they'd got over the initial shock, he knew what they'd say... 'it won't last'. They wouldn't understand the attraction... either way! But it wasn't Micah's occupation that he'd fallen for, was it? It was the man himself, a kind, caring, compassionate man who had a passion for football, who had a wicked sense of humour, who could party with the best... a man who just so happened to be a vicar.

Aaron knew some people wouldn't see past the dog collar. And the dog collar wasn't something he himself could ignore or even wanted to, because it could, if he let it, he supposed, prove to be a complication.

He was happy with Micah, more than happy, they hadn't said the actual words to each other yet but he knew they were in love. The relationship was changing him and for the better. Micah somehow brought out the best in him. He would always have that hard edge to him though, the quick temper, they were a part of him, weren't they? And not particularly good traits for the partner of a vicar.

Micah didn't expect him to go to church; he didn't push his faith on him, they'd had one conversation about it, a very important one, one that had revolved around Jackson and the two of them as a couple. It had helped him emotionally, provided another dose of healing and had brought them a little closer.

Them being a couple meant supporting each other in all aspects of their life though, didn't it? Micah certainly supported him, but when it came to him supporting Micah... he didn't think he was, that he wasn't doing enough, that he could do a lot more. He did his bit around the house, yes, he'd fixed 'Mable', kept her running, cleared out the shed and... and that was just about it really.

He kept thinking about Laurel, about how supportive she was of Ashley, how involved she was in his work, and of how everyone seemed to expect it of her. From what Micah had told him about his own mother, it was clear she had supported her husband in the exact same way. Was he supposed to be like that? Would people expect that sort of involvement from him, even though he was a bloke? He couldn't do it; he just didn't have it in him. So did that mean he wasn't right for Micah? No, Micah wanted him the way he was; he wasn't asking for anything more than that... but would he one day?

See this was the trouble with having so much time on his hands, he had nothing to keep his mind occupied, nothing to stop it from straying, from brooding, from sinking into this sort of solitary deep and meaningful. And as always, that's when his insecurities would surface and doubts would start to niggle at him, when he would begin to question his self- worth, wonder if he was deserving of what he had, and he had so much right now. Everything except a job! He shook his head at his worsening mood; he was on a right downer today alright. The letter he'd received that morning telling him he'd been unsuccessful in his latest job quest had been the start of his decline.

The fact he was still jobless, still not earning was really starting to get to him. He was trying, he really was, and not just for a car mechanics post, he'd take anything that would tide him over until what he really wanted came along. 'Beggars can't be choosers', as the old saying went.

He was sitting at Micah's computer desk right at that minute filling in yet another job application form. He knew he should be concentrating more on it, putting the right kind of effort into it, but he wasn't, and the phone ringing every five minutes wasn't helping either. The thing was, he knew this particular job wasn't one he'd like, or one that he'd be any good at, and probably one he wouldn't even be considered for, not with him lacking the experience needed, not to mention the fact he had to work around his hours at college and his counselling. Still, he had to try... the damn phone was ringing again! He'd let the answer machine pick up this time, he would be able to hear the message being left and so would know if it was something important, something he should attend to.

It obviously hadn't been as no message had been left, the caller having hung up on hearing the recorded message. He felt a bit guilty now; maybe it was someone who hated talking to a machine. Getting to his feet, he made his way into the hall, with the press of a button he was able to check the number of the last call; it had been withheld. He had been thinking about calling whoever it was back, but he couldn't now.

He'd only just sat down when the phone started to ring yet again, he bit back on the three words that would have turned the air in the vicarage blue and headed back into the hallway.

"Hello." He forced a cheerful tone into his voice and wondered just what this particular caller wanted: would it be to set a date for a wedding, a christening, a funeral, or would it be some cold caller, someone trying to sell him double glazing? Hopefully the latter, he was just in the mood to tell them where to go, to let off some steam.

Pen in hand, he was ready to take down any details, only to hear a word spat accusingly at him, "Murderer!"

The line immediately went dead, the dial tone suddenly filling his ear; still, it was a good few seconds before he set the phone down. He felt sick, his stomach turning in on itself. How could one word have such an effect on him? He quickly realised why, it had invaded his sanctuary, the place where he felt most safe, where nothing could touch him, where nothing could hurt him... but that word, that one word had the power to do just that, to cut him up, to tear at his conscience, at his still healing heart.

If it had been Jerry, he could maybe have shrugged it off, he was always going to believe he'd murdered his son. But it hadn't been Jerry, it was someone else, but who?

With that burning question came a few more. Was it someone from around here? If so, how did they know? If word spread, how would it affect Micah?

He made his way into the kitchen, slumped down into a chair, weighed down by the latest development. What was he supposed to do now? How did he handle it? His head was all over the place again, he couldn't think straight, he kept hearing that voice, that word...

He swore under his breath on hearing the front door open, Micah was home! He didn't want him knowing about this. Springing to his feet, he snatched up the kettle, started to fill it with water, pretending to be occupied, but really only playing for time, wanting to pull himself together before Micah got wind of there being something wrong.

"You're early," he called over his shoulder as Micah walked into the room.

"Yeah, for once. Quiet day at the office!" Micah joked. He'd been at a diocese meeting, there had been little on today's agenda and so it had finished earlier than expected. Aaron was in arms reach now and as always, in greeting, he pulled him into a kiss. It had been eagerly responded to, but he couldn't fail to notice it was lacking in its usual tenderness, probably because Aaron was so incredibly tense, any more tense and bones would be snapping! Something was wrong and he could tell, by the forced smile Aaron was now giving him, that he was doing his very best not to let it show.

"Something's wrong?" He wasn't going to waste any time in finding out what.

"No." He'd just lied to Micah, and he was suddenly struggling to look him in the eye. "I'm just in the middle of filling in that job application form; it's doing my head in."

"Oh?" Aaron should know better than to try and pull the wool over his eyes. He knew there was a lot more to it than that.

"Well, they ask a hundred and one questions and none of them relevant, and I spend ages answering them knowing damn well I won't get the job..."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do!" He hadn't meant to snap, but what he didn't need right now was Micah jollying him along.

"What aren't you telling me?"

Micah was doing it again, how did he always manage to see right through him? It was impossible to keep anything from him and right now he resented that fact. Nothing!" He snapped again, determinedly holding the other man's gaze, stubbornly keeping up the pretence.

Gently pulling Aaron a little closer to him, Micah said softly, "I know you're keeping something from me."

He was ready to deny it again, but with the grey eyes looking so intently into his, he wasn't finding it so easy. There was a lot on his mind today, a lot he could unburden himself of, just not that phone call, he didn't want to talk about that, about how scared it made him feel. "I hate just sitting around, I hate being so useless, all I do all day is answer that flaming phone." He'd just gestured through the door towards the offending object, unwittingly giving more than he'd wanted to away.

"Aaron, what's happened? Has something been said?"

"I just don't know what to say to these people. They're either boring me to tears with their wedding plans or they're sobbing down the phone about someone who's died, like I care." Had he really just said that? It wasn't what he really thought. He'd wanted to distract Micah, put him off the scent, but it had all come out wrong; he was just making things worse.

That had taken him aback, but he'd witnessed this from Aaron before, several times during the first couple of days he was here. When he was scared or hurting, he'd mouthed off at him just like now, but not meaning a word of what he'd said, "I know that's not true." He wished he knew what was going on in Aaron's head right now, had he had words with someone on the phone, an argument? There were plenty of difficult and obnoxious people out there; he knew that only too well. But they were the exception to the rule, and Aaron had been making a good impression on people, why only that morning... he needed to tell him about that while he remembered, "Aaron..."

"Sorry." He wanted to get an apology in quickly, try and limit the damage, "I'm just... I'm just having a bad day, that's all." Was that an understatement or what? But everybody had one of those from time to time, Micah too; he'd understand that, wouldn't he, and so would shrug off his strop, his bad mood, hopefully let the matter drop.

"Talk to me about it, then."

He'd walked right into that! "Micah..." He'd said enough as it was, he couldn't trust himself to say any more.

"C'mon." Micah steered Aaron over to a kitchen chair, sitting down beside him. "It's really getting to you, isn't it, not having a job?" He was disappointed in himself for not realising just how much.

"I didn't think it would be this hard, I hate not having any money, having to sponge off you."

"That's not what you're doing..."

"That's how it feels!" He knew Micah didn't see it that way, but he did. "I'm allowed to have some pride, aren't I?" He'd raised his voice again; he hadn't meant to, he was just finding it so hard to contain his emotions right now. They were firing on all cylinders and, as always, that meant he had little control over what came out of his mouth.

He could understand Aaron's frustration, but even so, his vehemently made response seemed a little extreme, he was even more convinced now that there was more to Aaron's mood than met the eye. The fact he wasn't telling him the reason behind it was a worry in itself. But he'd get it out of him eventually. "I know I keep saying this, but something will turn up... but, in the mean time, if you're really climbing the walls with boredom, I could fix you up with some voluntary work? You could fit that around college and it would help me out. What'd you think?"

That had thrown him. He had just been thinking about how he could be doing a lot more to support Micah, and this sounded a good way to pull his weight, but ... well, he had his reservations, it all depended on what sort of voluntary work, "I don't know. What would I have to do?"

"Well, for starters, we're always short of drivers for the various programmes we have on the go, and the under-elevens are without a coach at the moment." Now that, Micah told himself, was an inspired idea, why hadn't he thought about it before now? Aaron loved football, and he was sure he'd be great with kids, and going off that thread, "Then, there's the youth club..."

The phone was ringing, but it wasn't the phone that had him pause, it was Aaron's reaction to it, he'd tensed again, shifted uncomfortably in his chair. What was he missing here? "Alright, let's have it, what's really bothering you?" He hadn't meant to sound so stern, so authoritative, but that's how it had come out. Still, he'd done enough pussyfooting around, he was getting really worried now, Aaron was so on edge, almost fearful, why? The younger man's attention was on the message being left, and Micah could tell he was relieved by what he'd just heard, an enquiry about a church blessing, but just what had he been expecting to hear? "Aaron?"

"Someone rang..." He paused, hesitating just briefly, realising how stupid he'd been in trying to keep it from Micah.

"And?"

"They know, they know about me, about what I did."

"What'd you mean they know, know about what?"

"About Jackson."

Micah was putting the pieces together now and wasn't liking where the conversation seemed to be heading, "Who was it?''

"I don't know, some man."

"What did he say?"

"All he needed to."

"What exactly?" Mica pushed gently.

"He just, he just said... he called me a murderer."

Micah cringed inwardly, he realised now why Aaron was so worked up, "Did he say anything else?"

"Isn't that enough? That says it all, doesn't it? Micah, if it's someone from around here, word's going to get out, everyone will know..."

"So, what if they do?" Micah interrupted, he could hear the panic in Aaron's voice now, and knew he had to reason this out with him.

"What?" Was Micah really so blind?

"You did nothing wrong. And anyway, it's not a secret, is it?"

"But nobody knows about it round here. And I don't want them finding out, treating me differently, looking at me differently... seeing you differently."

"Aaron..."

"Well, they will. What do you think Milly and the likes of her are going to think about it? I'll tell you now: she's the sort who won't understand, the sort who'll think I should have been locked up for what I did! She'll be on the phone to the Bishop the first chance she gets, and what if he sees it the same way Ashley did? He's not going to want me here; he's not going to want you involved with me."

"I thought you'd stop running, I thought you were starting to accept Jackson's death, to see it for what it was, a compassionate and selfless act, one done purely out of love. Don't you see? If you hide what happened, keep it hidden away, then you make it look like it's something to be ashamed of, like you're ashamed of..."

"Well, it's not something I can brag about now, is it? It's not something I can put in my CV," Aaron spat scornfully.

"No, it's not, but neither is it something anyone else has any right to judge you on. But if it's out there and people know the facts, know what happened..."

"Yeah, cos it's just the sort of thing you drop into everyday conversation, isn't it? Over a pint, standing in a queue at the chippy!"

"What it is, Aaron..." Micah paused, knowing what he had to say would be a difficult truth for Aaron to accept, "...is something you have to be able to look into someone's eyes and talk openly about. Only when you can do that have you really stopped running from what happened." He held Aaron's gaze determinedly, watching a mix of emotions cloud the blue eyes. "It's not asking the impossible of you, Aaron, it's just you taking the next step, the final step. You're not quite ready to take it yet, I know, but you will be."

As hard as it was to admit, he knew Micah was right, but he just couldn't imagine himself ever being so at peace with what he'd done.

Micah knew his words were sinking in, that Aaron's silence was down to him reluctantly accepting what he'd just heard. He was certain he'd get more of a reaction to his next lot of words. "I think the first thing we need to do is tell Bishop Peters."

"No!" He liked the man, and the Bishop actually liked him. He didn't want to give him reason to change his opinion about him.

"You're worried about him finding out, and I'd say that it was inevitable, that at some point it will come to light, so don't you think it would be better if he heard the truth from you and not a half-truth from some gossipmonger who's intent on causing trouble?"

"I can't." He didn't want to look into such a good man's eyes and see disgust."

"Yes, you can and, anyway, you won't be doing it alone, I'll be with you."

Micah hadn't given him the opportunity to say no again, he had already moved the conversation on, was now talking about ringing the Bishop's office to arrange a time for them to meet. It was all happening so fast, too fast. He wanted to protest, tell him not to, but again he knew his boyfriend was right. He knew it had to be done; he could only hope the Bishop would understand.

TBC


	28. Chapter 28

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 28

Micah had got straight on the phone to the Bishop's office, just catching Annie, his secretary, before she left for the day.

When Micah had told her he wanted to make an appointment to see the Bishop about a personal matter, she had immediately found an opening in the next day's schedule, the reckoning hour 11 a.m.

Aaron had been standing in the kitchen doorway listening. On hearing when the axe was to fall, he'd moved towards the living room, stepping through the doorway as Micah had set down the phone.

"Aaron?"

"I'm going to finish filling in that form."

Micah followed him into the room, "Can't it wait? We need to talk." There was a lot more that needed to be said; for starters, Aaron was in need of some more reassurance.

"No. I don't need to talk; I'm not like you, Micah. I don't need to talk about everything that happens. Sometimes, I just need some time to myself, some space." He was desperately trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice, because he'd suddenly found himself angry at Micah for pushing him into doing something he didn't want to do, something he wasn't ready to do. That 11 a.m. meeting was going to come way too fast for his liking.

"You want me to give you some space?" Aaron hadn't asked that of him before. Micah wasn't sure if it was what he needed right now or if it was just another ploy to avoid talking about something that was troubling him, he had a tendency to do that.

"Yeah."

"If that's what you want." He was hoping Aaron would back down now; otherwise, he was going to have to honour his request.

"It is." He eyed the older man steadily, wanting to make it clear that it was exactly what he wanted.

Micah had lingered a little before turning around and leaving the room. It felt wrong leaving Aaron, he never had before, he'd always pushed him into talking, into opening up, just like he had earlier. But he knew that sometimes you really did need to be alone, that sometimes solitude proved an unlikely friend. Maybe it was that silent companion Aaron was most in need of now... and not him.

He made his way upstairs, knowing he'd be well out of the way there. Halfway up, he decided to take a shower, wanting to freshen up, hopefully wash some of the weariness away. Meetings in stuffy offices always left him drained. He didn't particularly like that side of his work, unfortunately it wasn't something he could avoid.

Today's meeting over, he'd been the first out the door, wanting to get home, eager to see his boyfriend. Things were so good between them... well, they had been; it seemed the phone call had really unsettled things. Aaron had been so worked up by it, and he hadn't been going to tell him about it either. That hurt, well, not hurt... yes, actually it did hurt! Right now, that was exactly how he was feeling. He thought they were past that, that Aaron could and would tell him anything, but it had proved a stumbling block and it was still managing to disrupt the relationship, the closeness he so thrived on.

He made his way into their bedroom, the shower now forgotten, pushed to the back of his mind by his troubled thoughts. With a despondent sigh, he sank down onto the bed, his and Aaron's bed, the bed where they'd spent their very first night together and every night since. He didn't want to ever wake up and find the space next to him empty, not again. He'd loved and lost Matthew, he couldn't love and lose Aaron too, even if in his case he just upped and left him.

He'd come close to losing Aaron several times those first few days, he'd not only run off once but had come close to doing so again. He knew it would have hurt even then, because he already knew in his heart that Aaron was the one for him, but if it were to happen now, when he'd lost his heart to him... well, he just didn't know what he'd do.

That's why the present situation troubled him, worried him, much more than he'd let on to Aaron. In fact, it more than worried him, it scared the hell out of him because he knew it was something Aaron could so easily run from.

It hadn't occurred to him that what had happened with Jackson would become common knowledge, he'd not seen past getting Aaron through his heartbreak and guilt. He realised now that it had been inevitable and he was accepting of that fact; he didn't believe in secrets, in hiding things. As it said in the Gospel of John, _The truth will set you free._

He couldn't gauge the fallout; he just knew there would be some. Everyone had an opinion and especially on something like assisted suicide, since it was highly controversial. Some would see it like he did, others as a selfish act, others nothing less than a murderous act. Then there were some, and he could name quite a few in his working circle, his peers, who would see it as a sin against God.

He wasn't sure just how John Peters would see it though, he was open-minded, fair-minded, and he wasn't a traditionalist by any means, he believed the Bible and its teachings were open to interpretation, not to be adhered to word for word. He'd been tremendously supportive of him when, after first arriving at this parish, a few parishioners had taken exception to the fact he was gay. The dissenters had kicked up a fuss, but the Bishop had shot their arguments against him down in flames; as far as he was concerned, love was love, whether it was felt for another man or for a woman. But how would he see Jackson's death? How would he view Aaron's involvement? They'd never actually discussed the issue of suicide, well not in any depth, and so he didn't know his views; still, he couldn't see him being anything less than sympathetic.

He knew Aaron liked and respected John, and that it was important that the older man see him in an equally good light. So he could understand Aaron's reluctance to tell him what he'd done. Still, not telling him wasn't an option, the Bishop would not appreciate hearing it from a third party, neither would he like being the last to know. He would expect them to be upfront about something like this, something that could, in some way, reflect negatively on his diocese.

His thoughts were back on Aaron again, about what he'd said about wanting some space, he realised now he'd been angry with him, well he had just railroaded him into doing something he didn't want to do! What if he'd pushed him too far this time? What if Aaron resented him for forcing his hand? What if he'd pushed him into running again?

Aaron could hear Micah upstairs, the creaking of their bedroom floor giving his whereabouts away. He was already regretting his actions, already regretting pushing Micah away. It was the first time he'd actually succeeded in doing that and it scared him. If he'd done it once, he could do it again and that would be the beginning of the end, wouldn't it? Ten minutes ago, he'd been worrying about Micah, how it would all affect him and their relationship, but as always, it was him that was the real threat, him that was souring it. He made for the door, determined to put things right.

Micah hadn't heard him enter the room, he seemed miles away, Aaron knew exactly what was on his mind, him.

"Micah."

The soft voice broke into his reverie; he was more than a little surprised to see Aaron standing in the doorway, a little confused by his presence, "I thought you wanted some space?"

"No. What I want, what I need right now, is you." He'd learned so much from Jackson, and being honest and open about your feelings, reaching out to someone you cared about, was one of the most important things he'd taught him.

Micah hadn't needed telling twice, he was instantly on his feet, striding over to where Aaron stood, pulling him close, holding him tight. "You'll always have me."

/

Annie had greeted him warmly, plied him and Micah with tea and homemade cake, had chatted incessantly to them as they waited for the Bishop to arrive. He was running late, only ten minutes or so, but the waiting was agonising, Aaron just wanted the meeting over with.

At last, the heavy panelled door swung open, John Peters apologising profusely to them as he stepped into the reception area. They'd stood up to greet him, and all too soon the pleasantries were over and they were seated the other side of the Bishop's desk, the older man eyeing them both curiously.

"Well, I have to say I'm rather intrigued, eager to know what brings the two of you here today."

The blue eyes were twinkling merrily. The Bishop had no idea of the bombshell that was coming, 'he was in for a rude awakening,' Aaron thought. His continued silence, his failure to respond spurred Micah into action.

"It's something we think..."

"Micah." He knew his boyfriend was going to lead him into the conversation, but he didn't want him to, he didn't want him doing any of his dirty work, this was down to him. He met the Bishop's questioning gaze, "The thing is, there's something I need to tell you. It's about something I did, something I... something Micah thinks is best you hear about from me." He wanted to give Micah some credit, make sure the Bishop knew it had been his idea to tell him. "You need to hear the truth, what really happened."

"Go on."

The smile had disappeared from the older man's face, a look of concern having taken its place, Aaron supposed that should have made the telling easier, but it didn't. "Before I came here, the reason I found myself here..." He'd rehearsed it all in his head, over and over, he'd planned on keeping the telling of it simple, just detailing the facts, but the words just wouldn't come.

"It's alright, take your time."

Aaron felt the urge to laugh at the Bishop's reassurance, laugh and say 'ok, I'll come back in a few months time; I might be able to do it then'. Blowing out a shaky breath, he glanced down briefly at his clenched hands before forcing his gaze to again meet the older man's, "My boyfriend... Jackson, he was in an accident, he was left paralysed from the neck down. He couldn't accept the way he was, he didn't want to live the way he was..." The words were coming now, tripping hesitantly off his tongue, but at least he was saying them. He couldn't maintain eye contact with the Bishop though; every now and again, his gaze would drop to his hands, to his white knuckles, especially when reliving that awful day, the day Jackson had died. He'd quickly moved on to the trial, how he'd been found not guilty, his struggle to accept the verdict, how he'd really started to fall apart after that, and how he'd taken off, leaving everyone he cared about behind him. Then the words were suddenly flowing more easily, more easily because he was talking about Micah, how he had helped him, persuaded him to have counselling, how he was finally moving on, or thought he was, until something, a phone call, had brought him up short ... then, suddenly, there was no more to say, the words, like his mouth, had run dry.

Only when a drop of moisture splashed onto his hand did he realise tears were falling from his eyes, he'd been unaware of them until now. He wiped them away, hating the fact they were there, they always betrayed him. He felt Micah's hand fold around his, such a display of feeling would have embarrassed him once, but not anymore, certainly not now.

The silence that had fallen around the room was painful to his ears, and it seemed to go on endlessly. The Bishop was looking at him although he seemed faraway, like his thoughts were elsewhere. Finally, he shifted in his chair, clearing his throat before speaking.

"How old are you, Aaron?"

That had thrown him; he hadn't been expecting that, what the hell did his age have to do with anything? He glanced at Micah, his boyfriend giving him an encouraging nod of the head. His attention back on the Bishop, he said, "Nineteen."

"You're very young to have gone through such an experience; it's not surprising you have had difficulty coming to terms with it. I can't begin to imagine the heartbreak it has caused you or the degree of soul-searching it has had you do. I know you're waiting on my thoughts on the matter, on your part in the ending of a life and... well, to be quite honest with you, I'm still trying to gather those thoughts. You see, I believe all life is sacred, that it is God-given, a precious gift we should all cherish."

Aaron felt his heart sink, the Bishop was being his kind, thoughtful self, but his words were setting the tone, he was slowly working his way up to condemning his actions.

"That said, God gave man free will, the freedom to do whatever he would with his life, whether that be to live it well and to the full or to squander and abuse the time given. Unfortunately, for whatever reason, I know that life for some becomes intolerable and death the only escape. I can understand how it became intolerable for Jackson. I can understand his wish to be released from such anguish, such suffering. I don't think he realised the extent of the emotional torment he would be leaving behind him.

"It's not for me to judge him, or you for that matter; it's not for me to declare what happened to be wrong or a sin. But there are people who will, so it was most wise of you to tell me all this. Forewarned is forearmed, as they say. I'm ready now should anyone wish to try and muddy the waters, and that's what you're expecting to happen, isn't it?"

"Yes." As far as he was concerned, it wasn't a matter of if someone stirred up trouble, but of when.

"You know we could just be jumping the gun a little here, getting ahead of ourselves, that one phone call doesn't necessarily mean there is trouble looming, that anything will come of it."

"That phone call was just the start." Aaron declared, certain of the fact.

He supposed Aaron had good reasons to believe that, that he had, at some point, seen the worst side of human nature at work, and it had left him permanently on his guard. It would do no good to try and allay his fears. "Do you have any idea who it could be?" Perhaps this could be nipped in the bud if he did.

"No." He just knew it wasn't Jerry, that there was someone else out there who thought the same way he did.

"It was cowardly the way they went about it..." They had hidden behind anonymity, and given Aaron no chance to defend himself.

That hadn't occurred to Aaron, but that's exactly what it was. Could whoever it was repeat the allegation to his face?

"...at least, it gives us some indication of the sort of person it is. Not someone we should fear, but rather pity."

"Pity?" Aaron exclaimed, he knew that was the last thing he would ever feel towards his tormentor."

"Yes, Aaron, pity. Who among us would want to be as small-minded as he, as mean-spirited, as empty-hearted?"

It took a few seconds for the Bishop's words to register but when they did, when Aaron realised the positive message they contained, he felt a rush of warmth and relief, the Bishop really did understand what he'd done and why. Feeling Micah's hand tighten around his, he turned to look at him, giving him a small smile to let him know he'd understood, that he was ok. Their eyes locked, forgetting themselves and where they were just briefly, the spell broken when the Bishop began to speak again.

"You will keep me informed of any and all developments." He had needed to get that in before he drew the meeting to a close, he wanted to be sure they came to him should a problem arise, no matter how trivial it might seem. He couldn't be of any support to them unless he was kept in the loop. If it played out like Aaron suspected, they were going to need that from him. He supposed he should be worried about the effect it might have on the Church but he was more worried about its effect on Aaron and Micah's relationship. The Church could take care of itself, but after everything they had been through, these two young men were still vulnerable, open to attack. Kindred spirits they might be, but the last thing they needed as they started to build a life together was any kind of outside interference, a complication of some sort. What was thrown at this fledgling relationship could either make or break it. He hadn't missed the loving look that had just passed between them, he didn't doubt that what they felt for each other was real, but had they healed enough inside, had they regained the strength loss had robbed them of, were they ready if need be for another fight?

TBC


	29. Chapter 29

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 29

It was a dry but cold Saturday morning, practice started at nine and it was quarter to now, but so far it was just him and Micah at the football pitch. Aaron was beginning to think that no one would turn up and realised, somewhat guiltily, that he would be more than a little relieved if that was the case.

He liked football, he liked watching it, enjoyed the odd kick about, he'd been in the school team, but as for coaching a kids' football team? He wasn't sure he was up to the job, and the last thing he wanted was to let Micah down, and in turn Micah didn't want to let the kids down, he took his responsibilities so seriously. The last coach had moved away and Micah hadn't been able to find anyone else willing to give up their Saturday mornings. He coached them himself when he could, but he couldn't commit on a regular basis, his work wouldn't let him, and the once-in-a-blue moon practices were of no use to anyone.

Five minutes later, it was still just the two of them, "It doesn't look like anyone's coming." Someone had to say it, and him being the resident gloom merchant, it had tripped quite easily off his tongue.

"They'll be here." Micah was certain of that. "They've probably stopped off at Maudie's for some after-game munch.

Aaron had to admit that sounded likely, Maudie owned the corner shop, she stocked just about everything, and it was certainly a munch Mecca. Micah regularly stocked up on his favourite dunking biscuits there.

Five minutes later, the boys finally started to arrive, one by one at first, but the trickle soon became a flood. He hadn't expected there to be this many! Aaron was again having doubts, he wasn't sure he could keep their attention, keep them under control, well why the hell would they listen to him? To make it worse, there were a few parents present too, watching from the sidelines. An audience was all he needed!

Micah had the morning free so had arranged the session with the intent of showing him what it all entailed, wanting him to know what was expected of him before he committed to anything. He'd started off by introducing him to the boys, Micah knew every one of them by name, and he seemed really popular with them all. Aaron wasn't sure they'd take to him; Micah had a way with people, unfortunately the same couldn't be said about him.

After the compulsory warm up, Micah had launched the boys into the first drill, they were all a lot more eager to participate in that than they had the previous exercise. Their enthusiasm was tangible, not to mention contagious, it was rubbing off on Aaron and he was really beginning to enjoy himself.

The two-hour session had passed quickly, and had gone really well, apart from one minor hiccup, a fight between two boys. He and Micah had hauled them apart, Micah giving them a lecture on sportsmanship before making them shake hands. He'd have to remember that, there were some very competitive kids in the group; it was bound to happen again.

With a blow of a whistle, Micah had brought the fun to an end, it had set off a chorus of objections, proof of just how important these Saturday morning training sessions were to these kids. Several of them had asked if there was to be another one the following week. Micah had hesitated to reply, because that was down to him, whether he decided to become their coach or not. Micah had other commitments on the following and most other Saturdays and so couldn't be there, but there was nothing stopping him, and it would help take his mind off other things. It was a few days since the phone call, and all seemed quiet on that front, but it was always at the back of his mind, and this would be another welcome distraction.

"Yes, there is." He piped up. "Same time, same place. I'll be coaching you from now on."

The boys started cheering at that bit of news, but it wasn't their show of approval that had put a grin on Aaron's face, it was the look of delight on Micah's that had done that. It seemed he'd just made his boyfriend's day.

The boys soon started to drift home, leaving them alone to talk.

"Are you sure about this? You don't have to." Micah didn't want Aaron doing it just to please him.

"I want to." He did, he, just like the kids, was buzzing from the experience.

"Remember, it's not just these sessions, there are matches to organise, funds to raise." There was quite a bit involved, he'd help, of course he would, but it would be Aaron doing most of the running about.

"I know." Micah had filled him in on that side of things too, and like the previous coach, he planned on roping in willing parents to help him with some things, and he knew he could always go to Micah if there were any problems. Knowing that, he felt confident enough to take the position on.

"Thank you. I was beginning to think I'd have to let this one go." It had been looking more and more likely, but Aaron had saved him from having to take that dreaded step.

Micah had turned all serious on him now, proof of how very important this all was to him. It felt good being able to do this for him, doing something that would take some weight off his shoulders, some worry, "Well you don't have to now." Wanting to lighten the mood a little, he added, "and you can show me just how grateful you are later!" His teasing had earned him another smile, he liked to see Micah happy, he liked being able to make him happy.

The vicarage was only a ten-minute walk away so they were soon making their way in through its front door, Micah checking his watch as he led the way into the kitchen. "I've got time for some lunch before I have to get ready for the wedding."

Aaron's mind's eye immediately conjured up an image, one of Micah standing by the altar in all his finery. Leaning against the kitchen counter, he asked, "Don't you ever ask yourself, 'what's the point'?"

"What's the point of getting married, you mean?" That question had surprised him; he wasn't sure what to make of it.

" Yeah, well, they don't last, do they, marriages I mean. My parents' didn't, Paddy's been married and divorced twice, Hazel's another one it didn't work out for."

"Most marriages do. My parents have been happily married for nearly forty years now."

Somehow, that didn't surprise Aaron and he acknowledged Micah's comment with a slight nod of his head. He tried to think of someone he knew who'd been happily married for any great length of time, but he couldn't come up with anyone.

"I take it you don't believe in marriage." Micah asked, his curiosity now piqued. Marriage was one topic he and Aaron hadn't discussed, and one he suddenly wanted to know Aaron's view on.

Aaron shrugged, he was realising now he'd spoken out of turn, that his question had been both a stupid and thoughtless one. Of course Micah believed there was a point to getting married, he wouldn't perform the actual ceremony if he didn't, but still he felt he had to explain himself, "I don't know, in my experience they don't last. People go spending all that money on a big do and a few years down the line they can't stand the sight of each other."

"And sometimes, they find they love each other even more."

"Yeah, sorry, I didn't mean to do it down."

"You're not, you're just highlighting your own experiences, I know a great many marriages fail, I just don't want you to believe they all do." He truly believed in the commitment. "It's something I want for myself one day."

"To get married?"

"Yeah and in church."

"But you can't. I mean, you can't get married in church."

"Not at the moment no, but time changes everything, and there are already changes afoot. One day, I will be able to make my vows before God, just like the couple I'm marrying this afternoon."

"That's important to you, isn't it?" With Micah's beliefs, he'd just realised that it had to be.

"Yes, very. I've got to ask someone to marry me first though." Micah teased.

"And he's going to have to say yes." Aaron teased back, the conversation seemed to have taken on a less serious tone but they both knew it hadn't, anything but.

"I wouldn't ask him unless I was sure of his answer, sure of his love, sure of what we had together, and was sure it would last. I wouldn't want either one of us getting hurt."

"No." They'd both been hurt enough.

"It's not something you should rush into."

Micah had taken a step closer to him, had lifted his hand to gently caress his cheek. The tenderness in his touch had taken Aaron's breath away and started his heart racing in anticipation of what was coming.

"It's something you work towards, step by step... and I know I'm ready for the first step."

He liked the way Micah was looking at him now, the gray eyes radiating warmth as they looked so intently into his.

"I love you, Aaron Livesy."

He'd known what was coming but still, on hearing those three words, his heart had flipped over and the biggest grin had appeared on his face. Micah had pulled him into his arms on seeing his reaction, giving him the few seconds' grace he needed to compose himself, he too then sharing what was in his heart. The words had come so very easily to him, "And I love you, Micah James."

TBC


	30. Chapter 30

Warning - rated M for sexual content

This one is for Bengee who thought the story was lacking a certain something!

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work

Runaway

Part 30

Aaron was sitting at Micah's computer, searching through the vast array of internet sites that gave information on football coaching. He was taking his new responsibility seriously and had decided he needed to go about things the right way, and that meant preparing in advance for each session. His search had brought up numerous drills designed with his group's specific age in mind, and ideas on how to keep the kids motivated. He was diligently making notes and printing info off and saving it all in a file he intended referring to before each practice. He was determined that every member of the group was going to enjoy the sessions, and in the process hopefully gain in both confidence and skill. They'd not won a match as yet and were, by the sound of it, seen as a bit of a joke by the other more successful teams; well maybe, if he got this right, that would all change.

Even though he'd spent most of this Saturday afternoon alone, separated from Micah by his various commitments, Aaron had remained on a high. His thoughts frequently strayed to his boyfriend, to the words they had exchanged earlier, to what had taken their relationship to another level. At those times, he would find himself smiling and realise just how happy he was, and how determined he was to stay that way. After Jackson, he thought he'd never be happy again, he didn't think he deserved to be, but Micah had changed all that. The misery and heartache were all in the past and the future something he could look forward to, because he had Micah to share it with. He wasn't going to mess up again, he wasn't going to do anything that could affect what they had, he'd learnt from his mistakes, and thanks to Micah, and his ongoing counselling sessions, he'd stopped running from what scared him, the new Aaron faced things head on.

Checking the time on the computer, he realised that in only another half an hour or so Micah would be back_. _He had nipped home after the wedding to change into something less formal, but had then made his way over to the church hall, where the WI were holding a fundraising fete. All money raised would go towards replacing 'Mable'. Micah had spent a few hours helping out there and had then come home, but again not for long, he'd had to go back to the church to take a Confirmation class. Still, the next time he walked in through the door, it would hopefully be to stay, the evening theirs, and they were planning on making the most of it. From Monday onwards, Micah was back on the 'Homeless run' as he called it. For the next month, he'd be out most evenings, probably not getting home until stupid o'clock. Aaron wasn't looking forward to those nights, especially knowing Micah's personal involvement had spread into related causes, bringing him to the attention of those illegally profiting from them. He'd not only been warned off, he'd been beaten up too. Micah had promised him he'd be careful, to not take risks, and at the time Aaron had accepted it as something Micah had to do. But now, now when it was about to become a reality, he wasn't finding the thought of it so easy to live with. Should he go with him? Should he volunteer to help with that scheme too, so he could keep an eye on him? Micah couldn't object to that now, could he? Not when he was happy for him to help with other things.

The timer on the oven had just gone off, and so he made his way into the kitchen, their evening meal was ready, a beef casserole he'd thrown together. It was simple, but both filling and warming. There had been a distinct change in the weather since this morning, a drop in temperature and heavy rain, and he'd decide it would be the perfect meal.

As he set the table, he heard the front door open, and looked up, smiling at Micah as he made his way along the hallway. The phone ringing stopped his progress and Aaron heaved an aggrieved sigh as the older man answered the call. Something told him their plans for an evening together had just gone out the window, and on listening to the conversation, his suspicions were confirmed.

When Micah had told him he was on call 24/7, he hadn't been exaggerating! For an official whole day off, he had to arrange cover a couple of weeks in advance, or call in a favour like he had that day they'd visited Emmerdale. Aaron wouldn't have really minded their plans being scuppered normally, he would grin and bear it because he understood the nature of Micah's work, but tonight was different, he'd wanted Micah all to himself tonight. He couldn't hide his disappointment when Micah finally stepped into the kitchen, snapping out, "How long are you going to be this time?"

"I don't know." He didn't, he had no idea, all he did know for sure was that a member of his congregation had fallen ill and had been taken to hospital. Joe Mantel was elderly, well in his eighties and already quite frail, his distraught daughter had been told to prepare herself for the worst. She had rung to ask him if he would visit them. Of course he would, he was happy to provide all the support he could at this difficult time. Still, he was disappointed his evening with Aaron had to be put on hold, and if he was honest, a little disappointed at Aaron's reaction, who was obviously more than a little annoyed. "Look, I'm sorry, but you know how it is…"

"Yeah, I know how it is; I know only too well how it is!" The irritation in his voice surprised even him and seeing the hurt flash in Micah's eyes, had him instantly regret his outburst, make him want to take it back. No way was he going to let this turn into anything negative, like ill feeling or an argument. How many times had he argued over nothing, over something petty with Jackson, hurtful things spewing from his mouth, things he couldn't take back? Like he'd told himself earlier, he wasn't going to make the same mistakes again, no matter how small they might be in the scheme of things. He needed to get down off his high horse and apologise, "Sorry. I shouldn't have said that, I'm just...I just wanted to spend some time with you." Micah was smiling at him now, reaching for him, pulling him into his arms, his grey eyes looking lovingly into his.

"I know. I'll be back as soon as I can, and I promise I'll make it up to you."

Aaron was smiling now too, looking forward to the moment Micah returned home.

/

The end of the day, night long since having fallen, rain pelted against the windows, the wind howled mournfully around the eves. But bathed in darkness, cocooned in the warmth of their bed, the sound of nature's wrath went unnoticed.

Wrapped in each other's arms, they had tumbled between the sheets, desire soaring, fanning the flames of passion.

Aaron's mouth moved over Micah's, hot, hungry, feasting greedily off his lips, his tongue probing, invading, dominating.

As Aaron trailed heated kisses to his throat, a sigh escaped Micah's mouth, his head lolling to the side as his lover's lips then blazed fire to the area behind his ear, licking, tasting, tantalizing the sensitive flesh there. Aaron moved lower to first suck then gently graze the area just above his collar bone with his teeth. His mouth slowly teased its way down to Micah chest, his tongue wetting then sweeping around first one then the other now hardened nipple, drawing moans of approval from Micah, before moving back to reclaim his mouth. As he took his breath away with deep and demanding kisses, his hand inched downwards, stopping to leisurely stroke and caress his thigh, to then slowly retrace its path, coming to rest against the hardness of Micah's abdomen, the muscles taught beneath his restless fingers.

Fueled by the passion of Micah's kisses, Aaron let his hand wander again, brushing against Micah's erection as it continued its sensual exploration. He felt him shudder and, wanting to heighten his pleasure, began to slowly caress the rigid length, intensifying his lover's arousal. His mouth swallowed up Micah's wanton pleas, his kisses silencing him, expertly driving him wild with his fingertips, bringing him to the brink of ecstasy, and deliberately keeping him teetering on the edge of the precipice. When his own need threatened to overpower him, he pulled away to ready Micah, and did so with practiced ease. He then began his slow penetration, easing his throbbing sex deep inside of him, finally burying himself to the hilt with a guttural groan of pleasure. He began to thrust, driving into Micah hard and fast, his shoulders hunched with the effort as he hammered into him. A harsh cry escaped from his throat as his senses exploded, jerking convulsively as the spasms of release emptied him.

As he stilled, as his senses returned, he felt Micah shift beneath him, felt him clasp his wrists and found himself being rolled onto his back, his arms being pushed up and away from his body. Micah's tongue found his, teasing it, his mouth assaulting his before deserting it to seek out a nipple, sucking hard on the tiny nub before punishing it with his teeth, going on to soothe it with his tongue. The mix of pleasure and pain caused Aaron to catch his breath, and to arch his back in eager anticipation of more of the same. He was soon lost in the exquisiteness of Micah's touch. Sensation after exhilarating sensation seared through him as the older man's lips trailed over him, his mouth tasting him while his hands caressed, stroked, teased and even tormented in their desire to please, and to satisfy. And then, pure bliss as Micah's mouth closed around him, worked its magic on him, raising him to the heights of delirium, before sending him spiralling into the throes of climax once again.

As the sound of Aaron's ragged breaths filled the air, Micah moved to reclaim his mouth, his tongue demanding entry, his dominance serving to stir the younger man's passions again. Only when his own body cried out for release did Micah pull away, shift to his knees and ready Aaron. He'd wanted his penetration to be slow, selfishly wanting the elation of his possession to last as long as possible, but at the first blunt probe, his body rebelled, forcing him to start to thrust. Aaron verbally urged his violent invasion on, physically welcoming the savage, unrelenting assault, holding onto him as his frantic need finally drove him over the edge into wave after wave of ecstasy.

Exhausted and sated, they had then fallen asleep in each other's arms, their rest disturbed mere hours later by the bedside phone, its shrill tone echoing around the silent room.

Micah rolled onto his side, reached for the light before picking up the offending object.

Loath to break contact even for a second, Aaron had shifted after Micah, his arm tightening possessively around his waist, the need to keep him close overwhelming.

"Hello, Reverend James."

Aaron smiled to himself, he found the sleepiness in his boyfriend's voice a turn on, and he snuggled still closer, his hand already starting to move over his naked flesh, stopping abruptly when he felt him tense.

"Who is this?"

Aaron heaved himself up onto his elbow, "Micah?" His boyfriend had just slammed the phone down, giving Aaron his first ever glimpse of temper. The reason for it suddenly dawned on him, "It was that tosser again, wasn't it?" Not giving Micah chance to answer, he went on to demand, "What did he say?"

Micah wasn't prepared to repeat the filth, the expletive-riddled tirade he'd just been subjected to, but knew he was going to have to tell Aaron something, "He wanted to make sure I knew about your past."

"Anything else?"

"No." But there was, he was certain he'd heard the voice before, that he recognized it from somewhere, but he couldn't tell Aaron that, not until he knew for sure he was right, because if he was right, then a very ugly can of worms was about to be opened.

TBC


	31. Chapter 31

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 31

There was no going back to sleep after the phone call, the 3 a.m. intrusion had unsettled them both and they'd lain awake, Micah pulling Aaron into his arms, holding him tightly, hoping such physical contact would reassure him in some way. But Micah's words were troubling the younger man and before long he was questioning him.

"You said he wanted to make sure you knew about my past? What did he say exactly?" How much about his past did the caller know? Knowing that might be a clue to who it was.

Micah had hoped Aaron wouldn't draw him on this, but he should have known better. "He asked if I knew I was sleeping with a murderer... or words to that effect." The caller had a foul mouth on him, and that fact added weight to his suspicions about the caller's identity.

"Do you think it could be Jerry? It didn't sound like him to me, but he only said the one word, it wasn't enough to go on."

Micah had heard Jerry rant and rave, could well remember the hatred in his voice, it was something he wasn't going to forget in a hurry. No, this voice had a distinctive gruffness to it, something Jerry Walsh's voice didn't have, "I don't think it was him."

"I hope it's not, if it is then..."

"Aaron?"

"I just don't want it to be him, anyone else but him, Micah."

He could tell the younger man was getting emotional, and could easily guess why, "Because of Jackson?"

"He just wanted it over with, his life, his pain and he thought it would be... but if this is Jerry, then the nightmare's still going on, isn't it? It would hurt him if he knew his dad was doing this to me, to us.

"Nothing can hurt him now, Aaron."

The tears had come out of nowhere, had taken him by surprise, Micah's words had touched a very tender spot, and vulnerable as he was right now, he'd been overwhelmed by a surge of emotion.

Tightening his hold, Micah listened to Aaron release some grief. During those heartbreaking minutes, he'd realised he couldn't keep his suspicions to himself, and as soon as Aaron was back in control of his emotions, he said, "It wasn't Jerry. I'm sure it wasn't."

"What?" Aaron asked, Micah sounded pretty certain about that, but how could he be?

"I think I know who it is, 'think' being the operative word. The thing is, I don't know for sure, I've got no proof, so I can't take it any further, I can't go accusing him..."

Shrugging himself free from Micah's arms, Aaron scrambled out of bed and, staring hard at his boyfriend, demanded, "Who is it?"

"Aaron, you need to calm down, you need..."

"What I need, Micah, is for you to be honest with me. You weren't going to tell me, were you? You were going to keep it from me?"

"I wasn't sure what to do, because like I said, I can't prove it's him. I could be wrong and I didn't want you going off halfcocked like you are now."

"Who the fuck is it?"

Getting out of bed himself, Micah stepped closer to Aaron, this was exactly the reaction he'd feared, "You expect me to tell you, given the mood you're in, so you can go look for him and make him regret making those calls?"

"I've got a right to ask the tosspot about it. Ask him what he thinks he's playing at!"

"And it would just stop at that, would it? At talking about it? The two of you wouldn't come to blows? I'd like to believe that but, knowing him and knowing how worked up you are, well... I don't want you getting hurt and I don't want you getting into trouble for hurting him. I love you and right or wrong or whether you like it or not, I was just trying to protect you."

"I don't need protecting, I don't need…" He bit back on his words, he was about to say something he didn't mean, something that he'd said before and not just to Micah, he'd said it to Paddy, and to Jackson too, about not needing them, but he had needed them just like he needed Micah now, he would always need Micah and again he realised just in time that he shouldn't be pushing him away. Taking a steadying breath, he told himself he had to let his anger go, that he had to approach this calmly, and not just for his own sake, he had to do it for Micah, he had to put him first. "I'm not going to go after him, I'm not going to set foot within a foot of whoever it is, I promise, I just want to know who it is so I can start to make sense of what he's doing."

Micah had just watched Aaron battle with his emotions and knew he meant what he'd just said, he now felt able to tell him what he wanted to know. "I think it's Tom Bryant."

"Who?" The name sounded familiar but Aaron couldn't put a face to it.

"The wife-beater, the one you had a run-in with."

"Him!" Aaron stated incredulously, "Why would he? And how would he know about me?"

"I don't know... maybe he resents you for standing up to him, who knows how a man like that thinks. As to how he knows, well..." Micah was thinking furiously now, he'd like an answer to that too, but try as he might, he just couldn't come up with one. "...that I can't tell you."

He knew all about retaliation, he'd done his share of it in the past, Bryant had to be trying to get back at him for making him lose face, it was petty but probably more than enough reason for a man like Bryant to react to. "So what do we do?"

"We could go to the police..."

"No!" Aaron didn't want them involved."

"Aaron, it's harassment, intimidation of a sort..."

"No. Like you said, we've got no proof, and anyway it would make his day, he'd know it was getting to me. No, I say we leave things as they are, let him play his silly game, he's obviously getting some sort of kick out of it. I'm not giving him the satisfaction of reacting to it." He didn't want to do anything that might escalate into something more, not after what had happened with Clyde and Jackson.

"I can't see him keeping what he knows to himself. Especially once he sees his phone call had no impact on me." Micah wanted to be sure Aaron really was ready for it to become common knowledge.

"I know it's going to happen, that it has to happen. He was resigned to that fact now, a part of him was dreading it, another part of him wishing it would happen so he... they could deal with it and move on.

"And when it does, you know you won't be facing it alone, don't you?" Micah wanted to reiterate that fact, he was still a little scared that it would prove too much for Aaron, that he'd run from it, that he'd lose him.

"I know, which is why I know I can face it head on."

/

They were in need of milk. He could go to Tesco with the car, they opened at ten on a Sunday, but it was the other side of town and Maudie's, although a little more expensive, was just around the corner. Shank's pony was a lot more economical than his car and, knowing that, he made his way out of the front door.

Passing the church, he heard singing, a hymn he recognised from school assembly. It sounded like a full house, but then Micah was popular, he had no problem filling the pews, but that was doing him a disservice, wasn't it? It wasn't just his personality, his caring nature that drew the punters... the worshipers in, no it was what he said in the thingy... in the... pulpit, was it? He felt a pang of guilt for not knowing that, he should have at least known that. Fact was he knew nothing about what went on in St. Mary's, he hadn't even set foot in it. That was wrong, wasn't it? He didn't mean from a religious point of view, but because it was something important in Micah's life. He should make some sort of effort, show his face, he didn't mean go to a service but go when Micah was there alone doing something, he knew Micah would like that.

Aaron was yet to visit Maudie's and find it empty, there was always someone in it, and true to form, there were other customers wandering around its well-stocked shelves. He'd only come for milk but ended up picking up some chocolate digestives, Micah's favourite.

As he made his way over to the counter, he spotted a face he knew, one of the boys he'd been coaching the day before, one he thought had a lot of potential where football was concerned. The boy had seen him but, after greeting the kid, he'd turned away, had blanked him. Marc was one of two boys who'd got into a fight, he and Micah had had to separate them, maybe he resented him for it?

"Marc?"

"I'm not allowed to talk to you."

The statement had taken him aback, "Who says you're not."

"My dad."

"Why?" He had a feeling he wasn't going to like the answer and he was right.

"Because you're, you know... one of them."

He felt himself bristle, felt a surge of anger too, but mostly what he felt was disappointment. Marc wasn't to blame for what he was feeling right now, the kid was just caught in the middle, he just happened to be the son of some small-minded knob. It was obvious the boy wasn't happy about the situation, and Aaron was certain he'd chosen the words less likely to cause him any offense, and that told him the boy didn't share his father's views. At least he didn't now, but how long did it take to indoctrinate someone that age? He knew he should be saying something to put the boy at ease, but for the life of him, he didn't know what. Even something simple like 'it's ok, I understand' made it look like his father was in the right, at least it did to him. While he was dithering, Marc made another statement.

"I'm not allowed to come to footy either."

The boy was tearful now and realising just how much the practices meant to him, Aaron said, "Do you think it would help if I talked to him.?"

"No! I don't want you talking to him, keep away from him, and keep away from me!"

He watched the boy run from the shop, silently chastising himself for making the situation worse. Maudies' voice soon drew his attention.

"Out of the mouths of babes."

"What?"

"Wise words, best you heed them. Tom Bryant's not a man to cross."

Tom Bryant! Marc was Tom Bryant's son! Things had just got a whole lot uglier!

TBC


	32. Chapter 32

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 32

Returning home, Aaron leant against the kitchen counter and stared at the clock. He knew Micah's Sunday routine like the back of his hand. The morning service would be ending soon; Micah would then set things up for the evening service before leaving to make his home visits. They usually took a good few hours, Aaron didn't want to wait that long before telling him about Marc, about his father. With only himself for company he'd do his usual brooding, which would only leave him on a downer. Anyway, Micah needed to know about it because it was going to affect him, too.

When certain he had given the congregation enough time to leave, Aaron made his way to the church. Pushing the heavy wooden door open, he took a tentative step inside. He spotted Micah instantly as he was walking down the aisle towards the door. It seemed he'd caught him just in time

"Hi."

Micah's greeting had been accompanied by a huge smile, he was obviously both surprised and pleased to see him just like Aaron knew he would be.

"Is it safe to come in? I'm not going to be hit by a thunderbolt or anything, am I?" His teasing had made Micah laugh.

"Missing me, were you?" Micah said as he pulled his boyfriend into his arms.

"You could say that." Aaron tensed a little; he didn't think they should be getting all touchy-feely in here. Micah certainly didn't have a problem with it though, he'd just dropped a kiss on his lips.

"Well, what do you think?" Micah asked gesturing around him.

Aaron let his gaze sweep around the church, around what was an alien environment as far as he was concerned. It was obviously old, the stained glass windows impressive. It was quiet, peaceful, it had a nice feel to it, but he wasn't sure how best to sum it up. But Micah obviously had a great affection for the place and he wanted to say the right thing, "Yeah it's... I like it."

"It needs some work, but considering its age, it's not in too bad a nick. I don't think you're here for a guided tour though, are you? Aaron?

"No. We needed milk so I went to Maudie's."

"And?" Micah said as he led Aaron over to the nearest pew. He knew his boyfriend was working his way up to telling him something, the fact he'd actually come here to tell him meant it was something of importance.

"Marc was there, you know from football practice. Did you know he was Tom Bryant's son?

"Yes… but to be honest, I'd forgotten all about the connection. Why? What's happened?"

"Bryant's told him not to talk to me, that he can't come to practice. In other words, to keep well away from me!"

"And his reason?" He already had a good idea what that was but he wondered what reason Bryant had given his son.

"Because I'm gay."

"He knows full well I'm gay but he never stopped Marc coming to any of the sessions I took."

"Which just goes to prove he's got it in for me."

"It certainly adds credence to it being him making the phone calls.'' He'd been certain it was Bryant, still he'd hoped he was wrong. "I don't know where he thinks it will get him; it's his son who'll miss out."

"And it's not going to stop at his son, is it? I bet only a handful of those boys, if that, turn up to next week's practice."

"Everyone around here knows I'm gay. No one's ever had a problem with me coaching their son, why should they have a problem with you?"

"You haven't killed anyone, I have."

"You didn't kill Jackson…"

"Come on, Micah! You know some people will see it as murder, just like Jerry does, like Bryant obviously does. He's not going to keep what he knows to himself, not knowing it will stir up trouble for me. We knew this was coming, that what happened with Jackson would come out. We just didn't know how… well we do now. I just wish…"

"What?"

"I just wish it didn't involve those lads."

"We don't know for sure it will…"

"Micah!"

"Alright, one or two of the parents might take issue with it. But you can't lose faith in a whole community just because of one idiot…"

"You're going to have to look for someone else to take the sessions."

"What? You're not going to give in that easily are you, before there's even any real hint of a problem?"

"That way it won't get to be a problem."

"You need to stand your ground…"

"You think I'm running from it, don't you? Well I'm not."

"But by not facing up to it, by not meeting it head on, you're doing exactly that. And apart from that, those boys are counting on you, you saw their faces when they realised they had a permanent coach. You can't let them down and you can't let yourself down, and that's what you'd be doing Aaron."

"And when one of them asks me about Jackson, how do I answer him?"

"You just tell him the truth; you tell him how it really was. We've talked about this, haven't we? Like you said, we knew it was coming, it's something you knew you would have to do."

"Yeah, but they're just kids!"

"Kids appreciate honesty more than adults. And they're more open-minded than them too. I wouldn't worry about telling those boys, I think they just might surprise you."

Aaron sat silently thinking on Micah's words; heaving a resolved sigh, he said, "You're right. It's the so-called grownups that'll be the problem, and you're right about me running too, old habits die hard!" He forced a smile, wanting to reassure Micah he was back on track.

"You can do this, Aaron."

"Yeah." He liked that Micah had such faith in him; he just wished he had the same kind of belief in himself. "Shouldn't you be going?" Aaron didn't want to discuss it anymore and he certainly didn't want to keep Micah from doing his job.

Micah checked his watch, "Mrs. Carter will have the kettle on the boil as we speak… but she won't mind me being late, it wouldn't be the first time. So if you need to talk this through some more then…"

"No, you've got me over the wobbler! I'm alright now."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah." And that was the end of the matter as far as he was concerned, for now anyway. He wasn't going to think about it again today, and not until he had to.

He walked with Micah to his car. Just as he was about to get into the vehicle, the older man suddenly groaned in annoyance.

"What?"

"I didn't lock the sacristy door!" It was the last thing he did normally but, with Aaron being there, he'd been distracted, had completely forgotten about it.

"The what?"

"It's where I keep everything of importance. I'll have to go back and …"

"You're already running late; I'll do it if you like."

"Would you? That would be great, here…" Micah fished the church keys out of his trouser pocket and pointed out the ones Aaron would need. "That big key is for the main door, and that funny-looking one there is for the sacristy, it's the small room to the left of the altar. You might have to play about with it, it's an old lock and a bit temperamental. One of these days, I might just get round to replacing it!"

Aaron waited until Micah was driving away before making his way back to the church. He left the main door open expecting his task to only take him a minute, but he had struggled to lock the door in question. Micah had warned him about it, had said it needed replacing, well that was something he could do, how hard could it be?

As he'd walked back into the main body of the church, a shrill voice echoed around him, startling him as it did so.

"What are you doing in here?"

Aaron had only ever seen Milly Holden from a distance, but he'd have known her anywhere, and to his horror, she was now standing just feet away from him! She looked so prim and proper with her white hair pulled up into a bun and her stick-thin frame covered by some drab coloured coat.

He didn't like the way she was looking at him, or the tone of voice she'd just used, nor her question to him for that matter! It had put him on the defensive and he snapped back, "I could ask you the same thing."

"This is my place of worship!"

Milly's indignant reply had only served to irritate him some more, "Morning service ended nearly an hour ago!"

"Then why is the door open when Reverend James isn't here? He always locks the door."

"I know and I'll be locking it when I leave."

"Does he know you're here?"

"Of course he does, why? Do you think I've been helping myself to the silver while his back's turned?" He could tell by the look on Milly's face that she believed him up to no good. No surprises there. She'd taken against him ever since she'd witnessed his aggression towards Tom Bryant. She'd reported him to the Bishop… he suddenly remembered Bishop Peters' words, his thoughts on Milly and realised he was handling the situation badly, he needed to back down. Taking a calming breath he said, "Sorry. I know you're just looking out for Micah, protecting his interests, but he doesn't need protecting from me."

"Doesn't he?"

The iciness in her eyes, in her voice told him Milly knew about Jackson. Yeah, that would be right! Bryant would make a point of telling someone like Milly, someone who would kick up the most fuss. He was on the defensive again now, "Meaning?"

"The Reverend James is a good man…"

He shouldn't be interrupting but he couldn't stop himself, "You mean too good for the likes of me?" He wasn't going to give her chance to answer, "I'd have to agree with you there." That admission appeared to have thrown Milly, she seemed lost for words but not for long.

"What you did was wrong!"

Milly knew alright! At least she knew what Bryant had told her, and that, no matter where he'd got the information, wouldn't be the whole story, it wouldn't be the truth. She had no right judging him, "In your opinion."

"In the eyes of God!"

"He might have been there but you weren't! You don't know anything about Jackson, about what he went through. You don't know how unbearable his life had become and how desperate he was to end it." Milly had just visibly flinched at his words, they'd obviously had some kind of an impact on her, had sickened her probably. That was just too bad. He hadn't finished yet.

"I loved him and I did everything I could to make him change his mind, so did his mum. But nothing we said or did made any difference. He'd made up his mind. It was his decision. I didn't want him to die. I didn't want to go through life without him.'' He saw something flash in Milly's eyes, for a heartbeat he thought it was understanding, but realised it couldn't be, not from someone as cold and unfeeling as she seemed to be.

"I told him I wouldn't help him do it. I couldn't! But when the time came, his mum… she… she just wasn't strong enough… so I helped him find the peace he was so desperate for." That was all Milly needed to know, more than she needed to know, but he felt happier knowing she now knew the truth and not just some sensationalized version from Bryant.

He never had been able to control his emotions, his tears always fell way too easily, he knew there were tears in his eyes now, they'd come out of nowhere yet again. He wanted to turn away, he wanted to hide them, but he couldn't, he had to look Milly Holden in the eye. He had to keep his head held high like Micah had told him to do. In the end, it was her who turned away, hurrying then towards the door.

He'd expected some reaction from her, had been ready for one, ready to defend what he'd done still further. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction! He slumped down onto a nearby seat, trying to rein in his emotions, annoyed at the fact he'd let them get the better of him again.

It was some time before he realised he was no longer alone, that Milly was now walking back down the aisle towards him. So she did want another pop at him then! He forced himself to meet her gaze, not quite able to believe it when she sat down beside him. There was something different about her now, something he couldn't put his finger on, and when she started to speak, her voice was soft and low, confusing him even more.

"My husband was a good man, a man of great dignity. He accepted everything life threw at him with grace and fortitude. We were never blessed with children; Harry used to say it just wasn't meant to be. So it was always just the two of us. We had forty wonderful years together before a stroke robbed him of everything except his mind. That remained as agile as it had always been.

"At first, I could see frustration in his eyes, he wanted to get better, he wanted his life back. But slowly, that frustration turned to despair. I would tell myself I was imagining what I saw in his eyes, the pleading, the begging… and so his suffering went on for the longest time.

"I let them keep him alive; I let them prolong his agony. I just sat there and held his hand… I couldn't bear the thought of life without him. I wish I'd had the strength to say enough, no more. I wish I'd had the courage to let him go."

He was suddenly aware of Milly pressing something into his hand, a hanky, her fingers then gently folded around his. Left dazed by her words and comforting gesture he could only stare after her when she rose to her feet and slowly walked away.

TBC


	33. Chapter 33

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work

Runaway

Part 32

As Aaron walked in through the front door, he heard his phone ringing, he hurried to answer it, hoping it was Micah. But it was Paddy's voice he heard, the older man excitedly telling him that they had set a date for Leo's christening. It was a month away, and Paddy wanted to know if that was enough notice for Micah to arrange cover, he was invited along too. Aaron promised the older man they would both be there and that's when Paddy had floored him by saying, "You better be, we want you to be Leo's godfather."

He hadn't been expecting that, he hadn't seen that coming. He was pleased, more than pleased, and more than a little shocked. He couldn't believe that after everything that had happened, they trusted him with something like that. Not so much Paddy, he always saw the best in him, but Rhona and Marlon? Well, they'd never really liked him. They'd always been wary of him, more so after finding out he'd beaten Paddy up, not that he could blame them for that. What had happened with Jackson and his erratic behaviour after hadn't done much for their opinion of him either. Which was why he couldn't quite get his head around the fact they were happy for him to do this now. He couldn't wait to tell Micah, and it wasn't the only thing he was eager to share with his boyfriend. He also wanted to share with him his encounter with Milly.

After all the talking he'd been doing this last hour, he was in need of a drink and so he switched the kettle on. As he waited for it to boil, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the handkerchief Milly had earlier tucked into his hand. He stared bemused at the piece of fabric; if it wasn't for the white square of cotton, he'd think he'd dreamt it all. One minute they were firing pot shots at each other, the next he was looking her in the eye and opening his heart and then... then she'd opened her heart to him!

It was all a bit surreal. He kept thinking about her words, about what she'd said about her husband. He knew she was a widow, but he hadn't given her husband much thought except to sympathise with him for ever having married her! He'd even joked to himself that she'd nagged him to death! He regretted thinking that way now, for being so callous. They'd obviously loved each other very much. He and Jackson hadn't been together long, far short of forty years, and their time together hadn't all been happy but they had loved each other. Not everybody believed that, Jerry didn't for one, but what he'd done for Jackson he'd done out of love and not for any other reason like Jerry believed. He suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for Jackson's dad, he was so full of hatred, so full of bitterness... he was never going to know peace, was he? Not unless he let all that go, and he couldn't see that ever happening. What was he doing thinking about Jerry? That was one path he shouldn't be going down. He fingered the hanky again in the hopes of diverting his thoughts, and he soon had. Someone, Milly he supposed, had sewn... embroidered initials into one of its corners. H.H... he didn't need to be Einstein to work out what they stood for, Harry Holden, Milly's husband. She'd be wanting this hanky back, of course she would and he was going to have to give it back... he was going to have to knock on her door... but not today he wasn't! They... well him anyway wasn't up to that yet.

The kettle having boiled, he folded the handkerchief and placed it back in his pocket before making himself a much-needed cup of tea. That done, he made his way into the living room, sitting himself down in front of the computer. After Micah's little pep talk, he was all fired up about his football coaching again, he was going to see what else he could find to help with the training sessions.

A couple of hours had passed before he knew it, the sound of Micah coming in through the front door alerting him to the time.

As usual, the older man was laden with fare, a certain lady in his parish was determined he wouldn't starve, not on her watch. Micah had held up one of the plastic containers and made a point of telling him it contained a chocolate cake. He'd rolled his eye at that, Micah was a self-confessed chocoholic, it was so Micah kept telling him, his only vice!

Arms now free of their burden, Micah pulled Aaron into a lingering kiss, pulling away, he asked, "So, how was the rest of your morning?" Hopefully, he hadn't been dwelling on what Marc had said to him.

"Eventful." Aaron grinned, he was still on a bit of a high from it all.

"Eventful?" Now just what did Aaron mean by that?"

"Yeah, Paddy phoned and me and Milly got to know each other a little better."

"Milly? Milly as in the Milly across the road Milly?"

He couldn't help but laugh at the disbelief on Micah's face, "Yeah, that Milly."

"This is a wind up, isn't it?"

"No, she noticed the church door open and thought someone... me, was robbing the church."

Micah heaved a forlorn sigh as his heart sank, "By getting to know each other, you mean the pair of you had words?" He could just imagine the grief she had given Aaron, he could well understand it if Aaron had mouthed back, he hoped he hadn't though, that he had somehow risen above it.

"No, well in the start we did, yeah, but I suppose you could say we came to a sort of understanding."

"What do you mean?" Now he was intrigued.

"She knew about Jackson, or thought she did. I just put her straight."

"You did?" Micah was having a little trouble absorbing all of this.

"It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. I just wanted to make her understand and she did. She told me about her husband, did you know him?"

"No, he died before I came here. He was a good man, by all accounts, I'm told he and Milly were inseparable, a real Darby and Joan."

"She said he had a stroke, that his mind was ok but... but like Jackson, he felt trapped in a useless body, only she... she couldn't help him and that she regrets that now."

Micah was more than a little surprised by what he was hearing, it seemed Milly and Aaron had had a real heart-to-heart, it was hard to imagine the two of them doing so but he was feeling quite moved by the fact they had, and more than a little proud of his boyfriend. It was a huge step for him. "That really helped, didn't it? You two talking?"

"Yeah and it didn't need dragging out of me, Micah," Aaron admitted quietly, "I didn't try to hide what I've done. I didn't run this time, I didn't even want to. I just... I just wanted her to understand, but if she hadn't done, well, it wouldn't have mattered. I don't feel like I need to explain myself anymore, that I have to defend myself anymore. I did what I did because I loved Jackson and now I've moved on."

"Yeah..." Micah agreed as he tightened his hold on Aaron, "you really have moved on." He could see a real difference in Aaron now, the haunted look had actually gone from his eyes. He was going to have to trample on the moment though, knowing there were implications they couldn't ignore, "Did Milly say how she knew about Jackson?"

"No, but it had to have been Bryant, he's obviously spread the word. We said we'd let the Bishop know if anything happened." He wasn't about to forget that promise.

"I'll phone him tomorrow." It would keep until then, the mention of the phone had Micah remember that Paddy had rung, "Everything alright with Paddy?"

"Yeah, they want me to be godfather to Leo."

The smile on Aaron's face told Micah just how much that meant to him, he knew it was a real boost to his self-worth. "That's great news. Does it mean I get to see you in a suit?"

"In and out of one if you're lucky!" Aaron teased back. "You can get the day off, can't you? I told Paddy you'd definitely be able to come." He desperately wanted Micah there with him.

"Of course I can." He'd move heaven and earth if he had to, no way was he going to miss such an important day in Aaron's life. He did have a few reservations about returning to Emmerdale though, "You're alright about going back, only the last time..."

"I wasn't in any hurry to go back, but now... I can't wait." He rarely got excited about things, but he was about the football coaching and now at being asked to be godfather to a special little boy. He was going to be feeling very proud on that day, especially with Micah there.

"I could maybe wangle a long weekend if you fancy staying over a few nights?" Micah wasn't really all that enthused about doing so, he was certain he'd end up having words with Chas at some point if he did, but he had a feeling the idea might well appeal to Aaron right now.

"Yeah, that way you'd have time to meet everyone, and we could do some clubbing."

"Sounds good to me." Micah smiled, Aaron looked truly happy, and seeing him so made his own heart sing.

TBC


	34. Chapter 34

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work.

Runaway

Part 34

2 a.m. and only now were they going to bed. Cold and world-weary, they snuggled up together, Micah wrapping his arms tightly around Aaron, the younger man melting against him.

"You ok?" Micah asked. Aaron had been conspicuously quiet on the journey home. Tonight had obviously proved a bit of an eye-opener and like for most people involved in helping the homeless, seeing it first-hand for the very first time, it had had an emotional effect on him.

"Yeah, fine," Aaron insisted, even though he knew Micah wouldn't believe him, not for one second.

"No, you're not," Micah stated, he knew Aaron needed to talk about what he'd witnessed, and needed a push in the right direction. "It lingers, doesn't it? The feeling of disbelief, of utter helplessness… even when you're doing something positive like handing out the hot soup and blankets."

"It's never enough, is it?" Aaron began to speak his troubled thoughts aloud, "No matter what you do, it's never going to be enough." He'd quickly realised that tonight and had felt guilty knowing he had a home to go to, a warm bed and someone's arms to fall asleep in.

"No. But doing something, anything, is better than doing nothing at all."

"Yeah." Of course it was. He hadn't realised how big a problem it was, and it had been yet another reminder of just how very lucky he was. When Phil, one of the volunteers, had rung Monday morning to say his wife was ill, that he couldn't help out this week, he had jumped at the chance of taking his place. Not that he'd been wanting to do his bit for the needy, no, it was more to do with him keeping an eye on Micah. After what the Bishop had told him, he worried about his involvement in this particular church-led scheme. Where Micah was concerned, it involved a lot more than giving out hot meals and advice. It seemed Micah was on a one-man mission to prevent the most vulnerable from being used and abused. Aaron hadn't seen anything to trouble him where Micah was concerned tonight, it had all seemed straightforward and hassle-free. He knew that wasn't always the case and that was why he wanted to be there.

Micah hadn't seemed at all enthusiastic about him going, had assured him that he could easily find another volunteer, saying he should keep their bed warm instead. But he'd been insistent and his determination had won out. He hadn't given any thought to what he would be doing tonight, he hadn't thought past keeping Micah safe, but that had quickly changed.

He'd slept rough himself, quite recently and a few times when he was supposedly living with his dad, when he'd kicked off or was in some sort of trouble and was avoiding going home to face the music. He'd naively thought he knew what it was like to not have a roof over his head, and he did to a point, but his experiences were nothing compared to the people he'd met tonight, and he'd been moved by what he saw, by their plight. So much so, his feelings were now bubbling to the surface. "I always had a place to go, I was never really alone, there were people I could turn to, I was just too stubborn, too proud, but mostly too blind to see that… but those people, those kids tonight... they really don't have anyone."

"No, a lot of them don't have anyone to turn to, but there are some like you who just don't realise they're not alone. But whatever the case, it's important someone like us talks to them, that we do all we can to help them before they get involved with the wrong kind of people, those who just want to take advantage of them."

"If I hadn't met you that day, I... I'd have ended up like those kids we saw tonight. I'd already turned my hand to stealing. If I was cold enough, hungry enough, I suppose I'd do just about anything to get warm, to put some food in my belly." He didn't want to believe that but knew it was true. He didn't want to think about the lengths he would have gone to in such a situation and so quickly moved the conversation on. "What did you think when you first saw me? Did you know then just how much I needed help?" They'd never had this conversation, not in any great depth and suddenly he was curious about what had been going through Micah's mind at the time.

"I was in need of some help myself, remember?" His car had broken down in the middle of nowhere and his mobile was out of charge. It was raining and cold and his day had already been a long and difficult one, it was the last thing he'd needed. "To be honest, my first thought was a selfish one, I saw you and all I could think was 'I hope he knows his way around a car engine' and you did! I couldn't believe my luck... and in more ways than one! I kept having a sneaky look at you while you were working on the..."

"Not a pretty sight!" Aaron interrupted, embarrassed by the memory, "I needed a bath, a change of clothes..."

"True." Micah laughed, he hadn't failed to notice that Aaron had looked more than a little unkempt. Still, he'd seen past that, "But I saw something in those blue eyes, and I don't mean the sadness that was languishing there or the pain. There was something else there and it was calling to me. And I know that sounds stupid but I don't know how else to describe how it made me feel. I just knew I had to hold on to you, that I couldn't let you go."

"And you didn't." Aaron breathed, awed by that simple truth. Micah had succeeded where everyone else had failed, he'd stopped him from running from what scared him, from what haunted him, he'd stopped him from running from himself.

"And I never will." Micah whispered, sealing his promise with a tender kiss.

/

Wednesday and Aaron was getting into his car and setting off to college. It was a dry but bitterly cold December morning and when he spotted a familiar figure waiting at a nearby bus stop, he somewhat reluctantly pulled the car over and called out through his now open passenger window, "Where you heading?"

Milly hesitantly stepped over towards him, seemingly as reluctant as he was to get into a conversation, "Just into town, it's alright the bus will be here in a minute."

Aaron doubted that, they were never on time, but even if it was true, he wouldn't feel happy leaving Milly standing there in the cold even if things were still a little difficult between them, "Me too, so come on, get in."

With Milly now settled beside him, he eased back into the traffic, long moments of awkward silence followed. Aaron had found himself completely tongue-tied, there was plenty he could be saying to Milly even if it was just discussing the weather, but it just wouldn't come. He'd had every intention of calling at hers with the hanky she'd given him, but as each day passed, it had proved a little harder to do so. Stupid, really, they'd done the hardest bit, they'd broken down the huge wall that had stood between them, had a heart-to-heart, it should have been plain sailing from then on but it wasn't proving the case and he didn't understand why.

Thankfully, Milly broke into the silence, "I don't usually go to town on a Wednesday but there's a new shop opened and I couldn't wait to have a look around, start my Christmas shopping. Is that where you're heading?"

"No..." Christmas! The word reverberated around Aaron's head. He hadn't given that any thought, not even when Micah had mentioned he was going to be especially busy over the next few weeks. Muppet that he was, it hadn't clicked with him as to why. He could be so dense at times, he was going to have to make more of an effort. ".. I've got college this morning."

"Oh, what is it you do there?"

"I'm doing an automotive course, you know, repairs, engineering."

"And you're liking the course?"

"Yeah." He did, now his zest for life was back, his love for anything mechanical had returned too, so much so he'd just got himself a place on another, more advanced course, one that was due to start in the new year. He was determined to end up with a good job and the means of making a healthy living. He wasn't sure if he should go into such detail with Milly, he didn't know if she was actually interested in his life or just making polite conversation. He could, if he was in the mood, talk forever on the subject to someone he knew shared his interest, but he didn't for one minute believe Milly did and he didn't want to prattle on and bore her to tears just for the sake of keeping the conversation going.

"That explains how you were able to get Mabel up and running again."

"I did what I could. But she's on her last legs," Aaron explained woefully, grimacing to himself as he realised he'd just referred to Micah's dearly loved heap of junk as 'she'… just like he had a habit of doing!

"I see it's parked outside the Vicarage again, I take it it's Reverend James' turn to oversee the homeless run?"

It was a simple question but it had been laced with concern, like Milly already knew the answer and didn't like it one little bit.

"Yeah, we've been out the last two nights."

"You went with him?"

Milly sounded surprised, didn't she think him capable of doing something to help those less fortunate than himself? He was instantly on the defensive, but managed to keep his tone even when replying, "Yeah, I'll be going with him every night." Micah didn't know that yet though, as far as he was concerned he was just helping out this week.

"I'm so relieved to hear that…"

Milly's voice trailed off and Aaron could only guess it was because she was wary of letting slip something that she shouldn't. He knew what too and wanted her to know he was aware of what had gone on, "The Bishop told me that Micah was warned off, that someone smashed the vicarage windows…"

"I was so scared for him and then the following week, he was... " Milly again bit back on her words, they were tripping too easily off her tongue, she was letting her emotions rule her head and when she did that, she tended to overstep the mark, be seen as interfering rather than concerned.

"I know about the beating, too." That had to be what was on Milly's mind.

"Yes, of course you do, he would tell you, you two being so close."

Aaron felt a pang of annoyance, Micah hadn't told him willingly, he'd had to prise it out of him and only after the Bishop had hinted at there having been an actual assault on Micah. Aaron was certain he'd still be in the dark about it all if Bishop Peters hadn't visited that day and shared his concerns for Micah. This latest exchange with Milly, her obvious concern, had unsettled him, and after flicking on the indicator, Aaron stopped the car at the side of the road, he couldn't concentrate on the morning traffic and say what he needed to Milly.

"I'm worried about him. That's why I'm going with him." A few minutes back, he didn't know what to say to her, felt uneasy in her company, but now he found himself opening up to Milly again… why? Was it because he didn't want to unburden himself over the phone to Paddy? Because he wasn't close enough to any of the lads in college to share his concerns? No, it was simply because he knew he could…

/

Mabel had been playing up and he'd spent all of Friday morning fixing her. He'd been late for college because of her! A typical 'she' Aaron had mused, demanding attention and getting it! Aaron didn't suppose any woman would agree with that definition, not that he dared put it to any woman he knew… but one woman it did sum up nicely was his mother! She was high maintenance, too.

Thankfully, Mabel was behaving herself tonight, so far she hadn't needed anymore tinkering with, she… 'it' had got them safely into the city and he was now walking around what he could only describe as a meeting place for drunks, a large group of men at least he thought they were all men, it was hard to tell under all the grime and layers of tatty clothes. One in particular had caught his eye, with his straggly grey hair and beady eyes; he'd reminded him of his granddad, Shadrach. The two of them had never really been close, Shadrach had never had any time for him, he preferred booze over just about everything, and it was alcohol that had killed him in the end. He hadn't felt much grief on his passing, and he couldn't say he missed him. Well, in all honesty, he hadn't really liked the man, especially after he'd made his feelings on him being gay so obvious. It had hurt and he'd never forgiven him for the pain it had caused, for the total lack of support when he'd needed it the most. He couldn't let that resentment continue though, he certainly couldn't let it affect the way he saw these men and this one man in particular. Ignoring the stench, the stomach-churning mix of drink and body odour, he pressed a mug of steaming chicken broth into the old man's hand, then wrapped a blanket around his bony shoulders, telling him where the nearest night shelter could be found. There were facilities there, hot water, soap, even a change of clothes. As good as all that sounded to him, Aaron knew the contents of a bottle held a damn site more appeal to the other man, it certainly had to his granddad!

As he made his way back over to Mabel, Aaron looked around for Micah, five nights in; he was still watching him like a hawk. He spotted his boyfriend talking to someone he assumed was another volunteer; he had to be since he had a wad of leaflets in his hand, information and advice their team was giving out. But the two men seemed to be arguing, alarm bells started to ring and he made to go over to them. That's when the older man turned around and Aaron could clearly see a dog collar around his neck. Two vicars arguing? No. He must have got it wrong! He looked on, eyes glued to the two men, they were definitely arguing, their postures, their gestures proof of that. What should he do? Break up the 'fight'? He was about to do just that when Micah suddenly turned his back on the other man, striding away, obviously wanting to put some distance between the two of them. Aaron took off after him, catching up with him he asked, "What was that all about?"

"A difference of opinion," Micah stated, anger still clearly visible on his face.

"About what?" Aaron suddenly had a very uneasy feeling about whatever it was Micah wasn't telling him.

"Not here, we'll talk about it later, I promise."

"Ok." So it was something he should know about. But Micah was right, this wasn't the time or the place, it was going to have to wait, they had things to do.

They and the two other members of their team clambered back into Mabel. With Micah at the wheel, they had moved on to another area known to be frequented by the homeless, this one nearer the city centre, nearer the bright lights and the nightlife. It was mostly young people at this location, and he'd been shocked by how young some of them looked to be. There were a couple of new faces tonight; at least, he couldn't remember seeing them on previous nights. Distracted by his thoughts and his ministrations, he forgot all about Micah for a little while. When he did remember him, when he thought to check on him, his gaze had darted wildly around the dimly lit waste ground. Micah was some distance away, again talking to someone he didn't know, a man Aaron didn't like the look of, a man he instinctively knew was trouble. They didn't look to be having a normal conversation either. The stranger was in his boyfriend's face, had invaded his personal space, and Micah's stance was equally as challenging... he was squared up to the muscle-bound heavy, eyeing him fearlessly. Aaron broke into a run, sensing things were about to turn physical between the two men.

TBC


	35. Chapter 35

My thanks to Sylvain for the beta work... and boy does he have his work cut out with me!

Runaway

Part 35

The two men had been so engrossed in hostilities that they had both failed to notice Aaron's approach, only becoming aware of him when he jostled his way in between the two of them, forcing them both to take a step back.

"Aaron!" Micah exclaimed, for a while there, he'd forgotten himself, Karl Mellor had that effect on him. Aaron was now on the scene and his hackles were raised too. The last thing Micah wanted was trouble, for someone to be hurt; he certainly didn't want Aaron getting on the wrong side of this merciless thug.

"Who's this?" Aaron demanded eyeing the bigger man suspiciously.

Before Micah had chance to reply, Mellor's gravelly voice was cutting through the cold night air, "This is a private conversation, sonny, so be a good little boy and run along."

Aaron desperately wanted to knock the condescending words back down the older man's throat, but told himself it would only make the situation a hundred times worse. Still, he couldn't stop himself from mouthing back, "Unless you're in need of some soup or a blanket, I say it's you that needs to 'run along'."

Irritated by the younger man's show of nerve, the muscle-bound Mellor leant in towards him but as he opened his mouth to speak, an ear-splitting burst from a police siren sounded around them. All heads turned towards the source of the noise and the now flashing blue lights.

'Where the hell did they come from?' Aaron thought, for once actually a little relieved to see the boys in blue. Things could well have turned ugly and he didn't want Micah getting hurt.

"Saved by the bell!" Mellor ground out, eyeing Aaron coldly.

"What?" Aaron demanded glowering back at his antagonist as he did so, he didn't want him getting the idea he was scared of him, because he wasn't.

"Leave it." Micah insisted catching hold of his boyfriend's arm.

"Is everything alright, Reverend James?"

The question had come from one of the two police officers who were now walking towards them. They obviously knew Micah, he wasn't wearing his clerical collar tonight, but they were well aware of who and what he was. Aaron listened to Micah assure the police that everything was fine, as much as he wanted to disagree and say no, that things were anything but fine he'd held his tongue. He didn't know what was going on and until he did, he thought it best he kept quiet. In the meantime, Mellor had disappeared into the night, and once the police had left, Aaron turned his attention to Micah. He wanted answers and had made that loud and clear, but Micah had again delayed the conversation, promising to explain as soon as they were home. If they didn't have an audience, if they weren't in the process of handing out some much-needed supplies, he'd have insisted they talk there and then, but he'd had to back down again, afford the situation some respect.

Aaron had thought about tackling Micah on the way home but they were only a street away from the vicarage on dropping off the last volunteer. He'd calmed down by then and had told himself it was best to wait until they were home before having the conversation. Not one word had passed between them, Micah was unusually quiet and distant, his mind was obviously elsewhere, and that troubled Aaron. He had no idea what was going on, he just knew that whatever it was, it seemed to be troubling Micah deeply. That told him he shouldn't jump in all guns blazing, he could be sensitive when he wanted to be and something told him he needed to be now.

After finally walking in through the front door, Micah led the way into the kitchen, there he set about making them both a cup of tea.

Aaron pulled out a kitchen chair and from there watched him, waiting for him to start talking, certain he would do as he'd promised and explain tonight's heated exchanges. But as the minutes passed in silence, he grew more and more impatient until finally his resolve to stay calm evaporated and he demanded, "Well?"

"Well what?" Micah replied quietly, wondering which particular bone Aaron wanted to pick with him first.

"Don't," Aaron snapped irritably. "Don't you dare play games with me..."

"I'm not, I'm just..."

"You're just playing for time..."

"No," he wasn't... well actually he was, he wanted this conversation over with but, at the same time, he was dreading it and even more worried about the fallout, "... Aaron, please, I don't want this to turn into an argument..."

"Why? You've already had two of those tonight, what difference would one more make? You know I wasn't all that surprised to see you in that creep's face…" He hadn't been, Micah was fearless, but he had been scared for him, "… but the other man, the vicar!" It reminded him of the time Micah had a pop at the Bishop, when he'd gotten all defensive over him. He hoped he wasn't the cause of this latest upset, "Micah..."

"That was the Very Reverend Roy Smart, a pompous, sanctimonious, narrow-minded ..."

Aaron had wanted to know about the other man first, his presence was of more concern to him, but Micah had suddenly launched into an angry tirade and he found himself listening, transfixed by Micah's rant, by his emotionally charged description of the vicar he'd had words with earlier. There was no mistaking the contempt he felt for the other man, it surprised Aaron, he knew Micah was passionate about many things but couldn't believe he could dislike someone so intensely.

Micah's diatribe finally at an end, he paused briefly to compose himself, "...I know it's wrong, Aaron but I just can't stand the man."

"He must have done something to make you feel that way." Aaron reasoned, something major had to have happened between them to make Micah feel so strongly.

"Yeah, he did. I know I should be more forgiving, practice what I preach. He's entitled to his opinions after all... but I've not been able to forget or forgive him."

His boyfriend had suddenly fallen silent and again seemed to be a million miles away, Aaron decided to push him some more, "Micah? What did he do?"

Shaken from his reverie, Micah heaved a weary sigh, he was tired and at a very low ebb emotionally now and the last thing he wanted was to dredge up the painful past. But Aaron had a right to know why he disliked Roy Smart so much and, more importantly, what had set the two of them arguing tonight... although he knew he'd have to be economical with the truth. He sank down onto a chair next to Aaron, he needed to sit down for this. He felt in need of something a little stronger than tea to drink too, but tea was going to have to be it. After tentatively sipping on the hot sweet brew, he started to talk.

"It's not what he did, it's what he said. When I first came to St. Mary's, there was a bit of a fuss made by some of the locals, they were a very vocal minority, Smart was a part of it, a big part."

"Because you were gay?" Aaron could think of no other reason but still he hoped he was wrong.

"Yeah, because I was gay. Smart was cordial in public, was diplomatic with his arguments. I was prepared to listen, to reason, to defend my position. But when we were alone, face to face, he made his real feelings known and in no uncertain terms. He told me I was an abomination in the eyes of God. And that hurt Aaron! It really wounded me! It shouldn't have, not with my faith, not with everything I believe, but it did. I suppose I expected better from one of my peers. At the very least, I expected him to be tolerant of something he didn't understand. But disgust was all I could see in his eyes, an all-consuming loathing for what I am, for the way God made me.

"I was with Matthew. We were in love and there was Smart telling me it was wrong, that I was sick, that I needed help! He said that everything I felt in my heart, in my soul was borne out of wickedness. He told me I was weak, that I should resist temptation, turn my back on the devil. I should have just laughed in his face, told him he belonged in the dark ages, maybe even pitied him, but I couldn't. I wasn't prepared to take crap like that off him. So, I fought back with words. I said a lot more than I should, I know, but like I said, I was hurting. I did put that confrontation behind me though, I moved on. The protests all came to nothing, Smart's objections were deemed irrelevant. I had the support of the Bishop, the majority of the parishioners and in the time since, I've proved my worth, Smart hates that I have, well let's face it, he hates me, he hates everything about me. He avoids me like the plague, only crawling out from under his rock when something happens, something he believes gives power to his convictions... like when Matthew became ill..."

Micah's voice had trailed off and Aaron knew he was lost in another memory. It gave him a little time to digest what he'd just been told, to try and get his head around it. He was struggling with it, with the emotions he'd just witnessed on Micah's face and the ones he himself had churning up inside. He was seeing a very different side to the Micah he knew, the vulnerable side. He'd never thought of him in that way before, he was strong, unshakable, and up until now, he'd drawn strength from Micah when he was at a low. He knew he needed to be the strong one now, and reached out wrapping his hand around his boyfriend's hand, squeezing it gently offering the support, the encouragement Micah needed to continue.

Micah shook his head at the memory that had gripped him; even now, he found it hard to believe that such a vile sentiment had passed the lips of a man of God. "Smart, he... he said Matthew's illness was a punishment from God. That he would suffer for his sins! I almost hit him that day; I wanted to and maybe if I hadn't believed so strongly that he was wrong, I would have. I just gave him another earful, what I hoped was food for thought, and then I walked away."

"You did the right thing." For Micah it was the right thing to do, Aaron was certain of that, and again it was a mark of his strength. He wouldn't have been able to walk away though, he'd have responded with his fists, he wouldn't have been able to stop himself.

"I thought it was at the time, I hoped what I'd said would have some kind of impact on him, but then tonight he... he thought he had another stone to cast in my direction. I came even closer to smacking him in that hateful mouth of his…"

"What do you mean another stone? What did he say?" Aaron's suspicions were aroused now; it had to have something to do with him.

"He's been told the same tale Milly was, the truth as Tom Bryant sees it." That was the bit Aaron did need to know.

That didn't come as any great surprise, they'd been expecting the word to spread, but there had to be more to it than that for Micah to react the way he did. "What did he say, Micah?"

"Oh, he started lecturing me about how sacred life is. You know you just can't reason with him, he won't acknowledge anyone's opinion but his own. There's not one ounce of give in the man, there was no attempt to understand, no compassion, just condemnation."

Aaron suddenly realised Micah wasn't telling him everything, that he was skirting around something, something that had made him see red earlier, and something Micah thought would affect him in the exact same way. "What else did he say?"

Micah hadn't wanted to go into detail, he certainly didn't want to tell Aaron everything that had passed between him and Smart, certainly not the part that had angered him so much, "That's about it…"

"No, there's more, I know there is. And anyway, I think I can guess the rest. He said the train slamming into Jackson's van was no accident, didn't he? That it was a punishment from God." He actually felt quite calm on stating that realisation, and couldn't understand why he hadn't felt a rush of anger; just a second ago, he could visualize a very violent response to Smart's words, but all he felt now was hurt. Hurt, not for himself or for Jackson but for Micah. He didn't have Micah's faith, but he did know just how very important it was to him, and he could see how something like this could wound him, even scar him.

"Yeah." Micah acknowledged quietly. He'd been enraged on hearing Smart's words but now, he just felt a sense of defeat. It had been another unbelievably callous attack, an attack on a very personal level. It had torn at his emotions, leaving them in turmoil, they'd taken a while to settle, and when they did, they'd left him drained, like he'd fought a physical battle and lost. "I can't believe that in this day and age, people like Smart still exist, that such beliefs are still held and can be wielded so cruelly by a supposedly good man."

"But like you said, he's in the minority; he's just one drop in the ocean." He'd been so confused about his sexuality, it terrified him so much that he'd refused to acknowledge let alone accept it. He'd been terrified of people finding out, of their reaction but, in the end, the only ones to have a problem with it had been his granddad and Wayne Dobson, but then Shadrach came from another generation and Dobson was just a brainless waste of space. Jackson had helped him deal with both of them, now he didn't care who knew or what they thought. Both his head and his heart told him that what he felt for another man was right and good, he knew the truth just like Micah did.

Micah had expected Aaron to take it badly, and he wouldn't have blamed him, but here he was taking it all in his stride, "I wasn't going to tell you."

"That was you getting all protective again." He couldn't help but smile, it was becoming a bit of a habit and one he appreciated, but still Micah couldn't protect him from all the hurt in the world, and he didn't need to, better they share it, "I thought we'd agreed, no keeping things to ourselves."

"Yeah, we did." Micah said realising his mistake.

"Did you tell anyone, I mean about what Smart said about Matthew?" Aaron hated the idea of Micah keeping it to himself.

"I couldn't tell Matthew, I had the Bishop on side but it would have been like telling tales out of school. I really just wanted to bury it, suffocate it… but of course, it wouldn't stay dead. My dad got it out of me in the end; he knew something was eating at me. It helped telling him and what he said helped even more but… well, he's never going to fully understand, is he? That one difference between us makes all the difference."

Aaron didn't want Micah feeling that sense of isolation anymore, "But I do! I understand…"

"I know you do." Micah said taking both Aaron's hands in his, he wished he'd shared it with him before now but there'd never been the right time, but now was… and it had brought them still closer emotionally.

Aaron liked this sense of closeness, of togetherness, but knew he couldn't hold onto the moment forever, life wouldn't let them, "Smart's going to kick up a fuss, isn't he?"

"I can guarantee it, but let him do his worst, it won't get him anywhere. The Bishop already knows and we have his support, Smart's just going to end up on the losing side again. Promise me you won't worry about it."

"I won't, I don't care what he thinks or what trouble he causes… but that other man, Micah, he does worry me. Who is he?"

Micah had forgotten all about Mellor, but typically, Aaron hadn't, and now he had more explaining to do…

TBC


End file.
